Razorblade Romance
by SocialDegenerate
Summary: There's no future without a past. But what if our pasts stop us from having the future that we want? Two men struggle between their pasts, presents and futures.
1. Track 001: Your Sweet 666

*******In this fic, each chapter is vaguely shaped by a song from HIM's awesome album, 'Razorblade Romance' (in order, from the Aus. release tracklisting). It doesn't matter if you don't know the songs; it would only help a little tiny bit anyway. If you do know the songs, then you'll be able to tell that this is going to be one angsty romance fic.

This is set after the OVAs, and will connect into Gluhen at later points. But if I don't want to follow canon exactly at times, I'm not gonna!*******

**Track One of Twelve: Your Sweet 666**

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* * *

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"Well then, 'night, Aya. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hn. I suppose."

I know that Yohji Kudoh feels nothing for me, beyond physical lust. He's still wrapped up in thoughts of his precious Asuka, or Neu, or whatever girl he saw this week that resembles his dead bit-...lover. Still, I return to his bed, or he comes to mine, time after time. We release tension, overcome a physical hindrance that is better taken care of with another person. However, there is no conversation; no discussion of feelings, or whispers of a relationship beyond the bedroom. He gets off, I get off, we clean up in a distant manner, and then we go our separate ways. It's been like this for a while, now. Yohji came to me one day, not long after we moved into that wretched van, with a most interesting proposition…

{~~~~~~~~~~}

"_Aya. There's something I want to ask you."_

"_Make it quick, Yohji, some of us have actual work to do today."_

"_Alright, just please, take this seriously and don't be all offended and pissy if you don't wanna agree. I know that, even now, it's not your style to trust, well, pretty much anyone. You never go out; I bet that you don't have any friendships outside of Weiss."_

"_Is this a request or just a long-winded insult? If I recall correctly, you haven't been socialising outside of our team since the fall of Esset. So please, refrain from preaching the benefits of slutty one-night stands."_

"_Well you see, Aya, that's exactly what this is about. The downside of being antisocial is the lack of physical release; men need to get laid every once in a while! It's basic instinct. You refuse to do it out of some sort of misguided pride. I've tried, but lately, women remind me of her…choking out her 'love' for Takatori…"_

"_What are you babbling about, Yohji? Get to the point,"_

"_My point, you impatient bastard, is that we have the same base problem. And I know that you're at the very least bisexual; I'm the same. You refuse to pick up strangers, and I have no interest in anonymous men, that deal extended to women only. Which no longer works for me. What I'm saying, is that it could be best for both of us if we use each other. No emotions, no plans for the future, no proper relationship; just pure and simple release."_

"_I've lasted years without needing intimate contact. Why would I start again now? And with you, of all people?" _

"_I'm gonna ignore that insult, for now. As for the first bit, you've changed lately. Before, you were always 'revenge' this, 'save my sister' that. Now, you don't put your whole soul into anything. You can't seriously tell me that you have no sex drive, especially now that you're not preoccupied with chasing politicians and psychics. You're in your twenties and male, for God's sake! Deal with the physical issues I know you're feeling; this way, it's safe, clean and completely attachment-free."_

"_I-…I'll think about this. Now leave me alone, and do some work!"_

{~~~~~~~~~~}_  
_

At first, I thought that it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. I assumed that Yohji was messing with me, that he had some evil plan up his sleeve to humiliate me. Then I remembered him during the time with Neu. The tenderness in his face as he nursed her back to health; the almost inhuman cry he let out as he killed her; his tears as he sobbed on the hill afterwards. It wasn't totally inconceivable that he couldn't perform with women. I also had to admit that he was correct about me- after my years of selfless devotion to avenging and saving the other Fujimiyas, I was feeling emotions that had been previously buried under ruthlessness and direction. Along with this came physical need, which I refused to cave into. The longer I thought about it, the better of a scenario Yohji's plan seemed to be. All of this led to my situation now, watching Yohji leave, yet again, after another quick burst of passion.

"Yohji…I…"

But whatever I was going to say went unheeded as the door closed behind him, a constant reminder of the terms of our deal. We have been 'using each other', as he would put it, for almost a year now. Never have we slept in the same bed; even when we used hotels during our van period, I would return to the others while Yohji stayed out, pantomiming the social life he used to have. To the best of my knowledge, the others have no clue what we do. I fully believe that they wouldn't understand; which is why Yohji approached me, and not a more…_agreeable_ person.

How Yohji knew that I would not be opposed to the idea of sleeping with another man, I have no clue. Women do nothing for me; I knew this back when I was Ran. There was a boy, we worked together…but he never knew. I'm fairly certain that he thought Aya-chan was my girlfriend...I never had the chance to set him straight…But since then, the thought of feeling anything beyond neutrality for another male had been impossible, until one night not long after we had moved into another permanent residence as Weiss. At this point, Yohji and I had been working our deal for about three or four months. Everything had been going just the way he promised; emotionless sex without discussion or questions.

It was the middle of winter, and I'd been left alone for a rare night of blessed peace. Ken and Omi were out working a mission that only required the two of them; Yohji had disappeared the day before, and we hadn't heard a thing from him. I truly wasn't fussed; he could handle himself. Making the most of having the house to myself, I was curled up in front of the living room fireplace. Half-asleep, I heard the massive crash of the front door being slammed back into the wall, and the thud of a body dropping into the building. My instinctive thought was that the mission had gone wrong, and one or both of my teammates got hurt. I certainly didn't expect the sorry sight that greeted me upon stepping into the hall.

There was Yohji, sprawled out half inside the doorway, still half out in the cold. He was peacefully sleeping away, without a care in the world, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. I still remember my initial thought upon seeing him: 'This bastard, goes out on a bender, then drags himself to the house and disrupts my night? I should leave him here to freeze.'

Then I caught a glimpse of his face, and everything changed.

I couldn't figure out how I felt at the time. I understand now what emotions were running through me at the site of his blue lips and swollen, bruised face; but this knowledge came only through hindsight. I was hit by an undeniable urge to fix him, hold him, return to him his previous perfection. As it was, I picked him up, with effort, from the floor, debating whether his bed or the fireplace was the smarter option. The fire won out, being closer and warmer. Surprisingly at the time, I wasn't bemoaning the thought of my night of isolation being over. I would never have admitted it at the time; but having Yohji with me, even drunk, unconscious and injured, was preferable to wallowing in misery and guilt alone.

In a move that should have sent warning bells through my brain, after propping him by the fireplace, I simply sat across from him, watching the colour return to his features. It didn't even occur to me to check him for further injuries, something that would usually be first in my methodical working pattern. It was not until I heard a car's tyres screeching outside that I remembered the door was open, and it was only when I got up to close it that I remembered about possible injury. I can recall berating myself for getting so distracted, only I didn't have the faintest clue why I was so out of sorts. The storm of emotions inside me was without precedent, and I couldn't separate it into individual feelings. I decided to put my energy into first aid, not worrying about myself.

Yohji had woken up when I got back to him, and I was mentally kicking myself for not considering the possibility of concussion. I needed to get him to talk to me, about what had happened, about whether he had more injuries beyond his clearly bashed-up face. I placed myself next to him, but it didn't seem to register; his eyes were open, but I could tell that not much was going on inside his brain. It was here that one emotion began to stand out from the rest: I was actually worried about Yohji, fearful for his health and safety. Naturally, I dismissed this as being concern for his ability to perform on missions, nothing more. I had to physically grab his chin and turn his face for him to acknowledge my presence, and this scared me. It was then that I realised something was truly wrong; not with him, but with me.

I'd broken my vow to myself to stay closed off from the world, and let no one in.

I knew, in the moment that I looked into his unfocused, wavering eyes, that I felt an incredibly strong…_affection_ for Yohji. It transcended our casual fucking; it was a completely separate entity. But it broke the terms of our agreement. And it only got worse from here.

"Ay-Aya? How did you get here? Where…Where am I?" He sounded completely out of it, like a lost little puppy. The worry I now realised I was feeling grew and strengthened.

"Yohji, you're at home. You fell in the door, and now you're in the living room. Where did you go, what happened to you?"

"I…I had to go see her grave…I had a dream that she…Oh God, Aya, it's all my fault! What happened to her…it was all because of me! If I hadn't told her to go, she wouldn't have gotten shot, and then Takatori wouldn't have gotten his hands on her, and then I'd be…I'd be HAPPY, Aya!"

The thought of him sitting there, crying his eyes out as he lamented upon his lost lover, still makes me feel ill. I feel even worse, though, when I remember what happened next.

"I don't deserve to be happy, Aya! I'm a terrible, evil person…so many people have died because of me…'SIN'…it's true, all of it's true…I live in sin, I am of sin, and I'll never escape it…I'm evil, pure and simple! Only an evil person could kill the woman they love, and I've done it twice. What does that make me? I'm nothing but scum, worse than scum, the kind of person that Kritiker should be hunting, not employing!"

Even though he was saying my name, I could tell that he wasn't talking to me. His tears were flowing, seemingly endless, his voice oddly clear, considering the amount of alcohol he must have consumed, and his time spent beaten in the freezing cold. I know that it's terrible, a horrid thing to say, but seeing Yohji so vulnerable and open…I completely fell for him in that moment. He was spouting off about being evil, and I loved him for it...what did that say about me? Yes, I loved him, and I still do love him. He can never know.

* * *

I'm alone, once again. Yohji's long gone from my bed and I'm…empty. This started off as a simple way to deal with annoying, natural urges. I should have guessed that it wouldn't stay that way for long. Emotionless sex depletes your soul when one party isn't as emotionless as they should be. Every time we fall into bed, a part of me dies. I don't know how much longer I can go, lying to him constantly, but if I tell the truth, this will all stop. If I tell the truth, he won't want anything more to do with me. If I could never have any more physical contact with him, I would just…stop existing. There would be nothing left to tie me to the physical world; no connections to living people. Our lives gather value from the worth other people hold of us…if my only value is to kill, because my ability to make Yohji happy is gone, then I am death itself, and I am as good as dead.

I don't want to stop having sex with Yohji…but I don't want to continue this ridiculous charade, where I pretend to feel nothing for him. I used to pride myself on my ability to repress all feelings, to remove all human weakness. It worked whilst I had something to live for…now, it fails me. I'm in love with a man who is satisfied with using me as a sexual meat sheet, because he's still chasing the phantom of a girl who died, but keeps haunting both his sleeping and waking hours.

This fact brings up a certain resentment within me…as the parts of me that can still love die off with every meaningless fuck, they are replaced by malice and misery. Emotionally, Yohji and I are further apart now than we were before we became physically close. My love for him brings hatred for him, a battle of emotion that tears us apart more each time we come together. And yet…he knows nothing. In his eyes, I am the same as I ever was; a man that feels lust without love, someone happy to live their life without forming emotional attachments. I want to tell him how I feel, open my heart and ask him to accept it, while returning the favour and taking his sins into my soul. But I can't do it, and my inner turmoil is screwing up any vague chance of a real friendship that we have.

* * *

Another day, another mission, another tension release. This time, it's his bed, and he's inside me, filling me…killing me. I can't do this any longer; it hurts, an emotional pain so bad that it's almost become physical. I have to get out of this room, get away from this horrible, meaningless screwing around. Yohji's so lost in the moment, he hasn't realised what I'm about to do. When I pull myself off him, removing my body from its perch on his groin, he finally notices my reluctance.

"Aya, what's wrong? Where are you going? Don't leave me like this, man! What's up? Aya!" Huh. You'd almost be fooled into thinking that he felt something for me, with that little show of compassion. I know better, though.

"Don't…Just don't talk to me, Yohji. Leave me be, don't make me hurt any more than I already do." With this, I drag my pants back on, leaving his room without even thinking to check if the other two are around. Luckily, they aren't, and I try to remain dignified as I hurry back to the sanctuary of my own rooms. I can't keep this farce going any longer. If I keep going to Yohji for sex, I'll never be able to rid myself of the useless affection I hold for him, an unforgivable weakness that might just get me killed one day.

If we end this ridiculous 'relationship', I can go back to being the empty, ruthless killing machine that I was before. I'll be dead inside, but that's all I deserve. An assassin doesn't deserve the company of the living, because he is not one of them. That's why Aya-chan washed her hands of me…she is much less foolish than the naïve and idealistic Sakura, and saw what I do for what it really is. Kritiker claim that the 'Dark Beasts' deserve to die; Aya-chan and I know that this doesn't justify murder. She ran away to America, saying that she couldn't bear to see the evil man 'Aya' in the body of her beloved brother 'Ran'. I don't blame her. That was the final straw for me, and the last remaining parts of Ran buried themselves that day, far beneath the impenetrable shield of ice that I built for Aya. I thought that Ran may have been recovering when I fell for Yohji, but the damage of unrequited love and meaningless sex is beyond repair.

"Aya, open this door! I want to know what you meant! I never wanted to hurt you, what did I do?"

I knew that he'd come eventually, demanding answers that he won't want to hear. We can't keep this up. I have to let go, so that I can remove all emotion and return to being ruthless and cold. Yohji's bad for me, a detrimental influence that will most probably lead me to my death. My physical death, not my emotional one. I will rid myself of Yohji and this completely useless 'love'. The first step…is ending this, and ending it now.

I stand up from my bed and open the door, Yohji standing just outside with a look of utter confusion on his gorgeous face. There's a slight hint of anger, and it's only going to grow as I speak. He's not going to like this; but it won't be hard for him to find another body, another person to satisfy his physical needs whilst his mind still searches for Asuka. Someone who can stop themselves from forming attachments that will lead only to pain. He's about to speak; I cut him off.

"Yohji. I can't do this anymore. It's been fun, but it's over. That's all I have to say."

He's speechless, probably for one of the first times in his life. If Yohji thinks that he's coming through this door to talk about it, he's got another thing coming. I no longer want to speak to him, see him, hear him. That's the only way that I can save myself…and him. I don't want to be Asuka's substitute; I want to be her replacement. But I can't be that, because Yohji won't let me, and it's useless to wish. If there's one thing that tragedy after tragedy has taught me, it's that words are useless, wishing is futile, and prayers always go unanswered. Only actions can help us help ourselves. And right now, I need to act and get Yohji away from me. That's what is best for both of us.

He still hasn't said a word; I close the door in his face, the light from the hallway receding until I'm left alone, in the darkness. The perfect metaphor for the love that I am attempting to rid myself of.

* * *

We have not said more than a few words to each other since I closed my door on him three and a half weeks ago. A few short queries while working; that's all. I still can't believe that Kritiker placed us into another flowershop after we left that van behind us, although I suppose that we know how to work it effectively as a cover, the four of us having done this for many years. I don't know how much longer we'll be four, though, as I believe that Omi will soon be called to reign as the new 'Persia'; becoming just another piece of Takatori scum in doing so. Takatori…the name of the family that has hurt my life so much…Reiji, tearing apart my family…Shuichi, tearing apart my conscience until only a killer remains…Masafumi, tearing Yohji apart by using Neu against him…

Yes, I still love Yohji. Time and distance has done nothing to lessen the ache, only seeming to make it worse.

How long will I have to live like this? How long will it take, until I can rid my mind of his presence, and stop the ache? My mind knows that this is folly, chasing a man obsessed by a long-dead ghost. My heart fights on, willing my brain to continue the struggle. My body…is rebelling against the return to celibacy. Yohji's presence in the same room is enough to give me goosebumps, and his voice alone can make me half hard. I've managed to avoid being around him, but I cannot, and will not, hide from him forever. Right now, though, I refuse to be caught alone with him. I will not risk having my traitorous heart and body overruling my mind. I will purge my soul of this man, and remove this curse that plagues me…love. What a useless emotion.

I'm retreating to the blissful silence of my room. Yohji hasn't been spotted for a few hours, so I am assuming that he's gone out somewhere, probably to find a new fucktoy. Wouldn't be hard, with looks like his…

I'm barely three steps inside my door when it happens. I see a glimpse of a tall figure coming out from the darkness, hear my door slam behind me, and then I'm roughly pushed back against it, while hands slam into the wood beside my head. This is the closest I've been to Yohji since we stood at this doorway last time, and my body rapidly goes into overdrive. My heart is beating like I've been sprinting; I'm almost certain that he should be able to see my shirt moving from the force of it. I'm completely certain, though, that he can feel my erection against his leg. If his voice gets me partly hard, then having him pressed up against me, dangerously close, is almost enough to make me lose control. I can't afford to lose control.

"You've been avoiding me, Aya. I want _answers_."

His last word is hissed out, the venom dripping from his tone almost tangible. I can't look him in the eyes, if I tilt my head back it will be too close to kissing. He hasn't moved, chest still pressed up against mine. Why does he care, there was nothing between us! I think he's just pissed that he got…well, that I rejected him, frankly.

"I don't see why this is a big deal. There were never any emotions between us. Leave me be, Yohji. I don't want us to fuck anymore, got it?"

It's a desperate struggle to keep my voice level and strong. God, why can't he just let me follow my downward spiral at my own pace? Must he make my journey faster?

"Huh, Aya, I'm not an idiot. I know you're lying to me. This isn't about feelings, it's about you being a fuckin' idiot and trying to blame me for something I haven't done! And I can tell that you do want to fuck; or at least, your body does. You're panting and hard…that's a pretty sure sign you want me."

"Just GO, Yohji!"

"You're a coward. Did I get too close to you? Is the human contact too much for you? Whatever, I don't care. Just stop being such a selfish little prick about it!"

The sudden removal of his body heat leaves me cold. I barely notice his fist closing around my shirt and spinning me from the door, because my mind is a whirlwind of chaos and pain. The door opens and closes, and I'm alone once again. A few steps back, and I'm sliding down against the wall until I'm sitting on the ground, trembling ever so slightly. Yohji…he means too much to me…I can't let him go…this has all gone too far.

I can't resist- I slowly pull open the front of my jeans and stroke the erection that Yohji left me with, losing myself in fantasies of his full lips and hard cock. A feeling of loss fills me, accompanied by the shedding of a single, slowly falling tear.


	2. Track 002: Poison Girl

**Track Two: Poison Girl**

* * *

That selfish, egotistical, cold-hearted, fuck-witted son of a BITCH! Won't even take five seconds to give me a goddamned explanation as to why he's suddenly shutting me out! I know that we didn't have a proper relationship or anything, but when you fuck someone regularly for almost a year, it's just plain rude to suddenly start ignoring 'em! Should've known, really, seeing how schizo that bastard is on the best of days.

Actually, what pissed me off the most was when he started yelling about me…_hurting _him? What the Hell was that about? I've hurt a lot of people in my life, but I don't think Aya's one of them. I wasn't the one who ran away in the middle of sex! I mean, I like it when my partners get off, but…not like that!

Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm just doomed to have everyone leave, even guys who have no emotional attachments. I thought that Aya was gonna be a pretty safe bet, that he wasn't likely to go find someone else, and abandon me. The guy's a freaking anti-social recluse, doesn't have any friends, and barely leaves the house. What could be better for a fuckbuddy? I doubt that he even has feelings, so I wasn't even worried about this dissolving into 'love' or anything else as ridiculously painful.

I never approached him out of love. This was never about how I feel towards him. Really, if I'm being perfectly honest, it wasn't even about sex. Sure, I pitched the idea to him like it was just sex, but I think both of us knew that…it was something different.

It was about human contact, physical closeness. The exact reason why I used to go out and pick up a new chick nearly every night. I'm a social creature, I can't stand going without human contact, it reinforces the fact that I'm…alive. The feel of a person, a woman or a man, sweaty and writhing underneath me, can make me forget the blood and the death.

Afterwards, the pain returns; but for a few blissful moments, nothing matters but release. I realised that Aya was perfect for me to do this with, because he would understand! He knows what it's like to live by killing. He knows what it's like to have nothing left…to lose the only person you still held love for…

Yes, but our situations are different. His sister is still alive, scared off by the heartless murderer her brother became when she was asleep. My Asuka…she's dead…and it's all because of me, and my stupidity. Twice, I should have saved her, could've fucking saved her but…I didn't.

Her ghost won't let me forget it, either. Every night I see her…her face, once warm and beautiful, grows cruel and cold; she taunts me…

"_What kind of a man are you? Couldn't even protect one little woman…you're the one that doesn't deserve to live!"_

"_You'll never find __anyone__ who will love you like I did. You reek of death; no one wants to touch you, they can sense the blood on your hands…__my__ blood…"_

"_Why would I choose an idiotic fool like you, when I was by the side of a god like Masafumi? Face it, Yohji; you were never going to measure up to perfection like that."_

The nightmares are the reason why I never slept in the same bed as Aya. I can just imagine the look of scorn on his face if I woke up with him, screaming Asuka's name as she killed me, night after night…everything would just become so much worse…I have no idea what he thinks about us never _sleeping_ together. We don't talk about stuff like that. We barely talk about anything! He doesn't know about my nightmares. I don't know if he has nightmares himself…probably doesn't. I'd definitely think he was a robot of some sort if I hadn't been clenched many a time by his all-too-human inner muscles...

I don't think that he'd believe me if I told him that, in all the time we were screwing around, I never once tried to believe I was with…someone else…or even thought about banging another person. I'm not as desperate for sex as the others seem to think. One person is enough for me, and always has been. I only used to have so many different women (and men) because the thought of becoming attached to someone was…terrifying. It still is; which is why, when Aya agreed to my little plan, I had no worries about us getting too close. I knew that he'd never let something like that happen. And the point of sex, for me, is to forget about the past, not relive it. Seeing her gives me no pleasure.

I don't think that I'll ever be able to have another proper relationship. It's not just because of the unpredictable assassin's life; every time the thought of getting close to someone crosses my mind, it's not long before I catch a glimpse of blue hair out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes, it's a flash of slim curves that are so familiar, before they disappear into thin air. Even seeing her at my door, messy and bloodied…I think I've terrified Omi a lot with that particular mistake. It's not just my dreams that she inhabits. I see Asuka's ghost in reality, and it scares the shit out of me.

I'm not a devoutly religious man; I've never been one for superstition. The whole 'sin' thing is really just the easiest name for a concept I, well, that I don't really get. But if there's one thing I do know, it's that I'm going to be burning in whichever level of Hell is left for guys who murder their girlfriends twice. I mean, most people only get to do it once, max. Guess I'm just lucky that way.

I reckon that's why she's haunting me. Well, I guess that it's not always Asuka. Sometimes, it's Neu. I can just feel it. And, just for a bit of variety, Maki joins to party occasionally.

Even in my dreams, I never see any of the others I've killed over the years as Weiss. None of the "Dark Beasts" pay me a visit. The ones who deserve to die stay away. It's only the three…the three girls that I couldn't save…well, I guess it's the two that I could never save. I don't know how he did it, I don't know why he did it, but I know, I just KNOW, that Neu really was Asuka. He brainwashed her or something, but they are…_were_ the same person.

That's what makes it so much worse. Her physical body didn't die back when I was 19…but Asuka herself did. And it's all because of me. First, I thought that it was sheer good luck that kept me alive, stopped those Liott guards from seeing me. Now, I'm not so dumb. It was sheer _bad _luck that stopped me from dying with my true love. I didn't get to kill her completely the first time; so some vindictive god bastard decided to let me take another crack at it nearly three years later. They let me live to torture me, destroy me. It wasn't enough just to kill Asuka. Something wanted to shred me apart, little by little, until nothing was left but a shell of a man who needs another body to feel anything.

When I first saw the face of the masked Schreiend member, I thought I was hallucinating. That the hard drug use of my teen years was coming back to get me in a bad way, or that the killing was making me crazy. How could Asuka, my beautifully kind Asuka, be part of an assassin team? I told myself that my eyes were lying to me. I was truly convinced that I'd seen wrong.

But then, along came 'Kyoko'. She looked so much like Asuka…It was only her personality that stopped me from believing they were one and the same. When she attacked me, and I realised that the one I'd fucked was Neu, all my little delusions about Asuka being truly dead started to crumble.

For the first time in a long while, I started to hope. I actually thought that I could get Asuka back from whatever spell she was under, that'd made her become Neu. I mean, the name itself was a dead giveaway! If she was 'new', then she must've been Asuka before. There wasn't any other explanation for something like this. I saw the way they looked at me when I was caring for her. Like I was nuts, a fool for daring to believe. But I could just sense something in that girl, something that was purely…Asuka. I wanted to bring her back to me, return the best thing I've ever had.

I thought I had her, too. Until _something_ happened, and it was like a switch got flipped. I killed her. I killed the only important person in my life, and did it so damned easily that I terrified myself. When she attacked, I knew it was Asuka in there somewhere. I told myself that I wanted to put her out of her misery, because whatever was left of my Asuka would be crying about what Neu was doing.

That can't really be why I did it, though. I can lie to myself as much as I want, but there's only one real explanation. I have to be pure evil, that's gotta be the truth. I could feel my partner in that body; and I still took her life. What kind of a man does that sort of crap? A cowardly, evil little piece of shit, that's what. I don't deserve to be anything more. I don't even deserve to live, and enjoy what life has to offer. But I don't deserve to die, and be released from the torment of my life.

This is all some sort of divine punishment, torture from whatever spirit overlooks slutty killers. It has to be. There's nothing good about me; I'm a completely immoral, borderline alcoholic, love-destroying murderer. I can't even sexually satisfy another cold-hearted assassin without pissing him off eventually. I'm surprised we lasted this long, actually. It was almost becoming routine to have Aya to turn to on times of physical need. Which is why it was gonna have to end this way eventually. Face it; I'm never going to be able to keep another human near me.

The headlights of a passing car bring me back to the present, out of my thoughts. The light moving through my dark, empty room shows exactly what I've been reduced to. What happened to me? It wasn't real long ago that I was Yohji Kudoh, sexy playboy who was notorious in all the best clubs. I'd slept with every hot girl in the city, and a few of the best-looking guys! I'd drink, fight and fuck every night…well, most nights.

Now? It's Saturday, and I'm alone after screaming at and then rubbing up against a guy who thinks…_knows_ that I'm scum. I haven't been to a club or a bar in months. I last got drunk…hmmm…would have been at least a couple of weeks ago, and that was alone, in my room.

Fuck it; it's not even midnight yet. I'm going out. Gotta prove that I can still do it. Yeah, I'm gonna get out my tightest, lowest-cut pants and strut right on down to the night scene here. Pick up a chick or two; definitely aiming for two. I'm not planning on coming back here until tomorrow, and then I'm crawling into my own bed and sleeping 'til Sunday night. I used to be able to do it; there's no reason why I can't now. I haven't screwed anyone but Aya since we started messing around, but if he's gonna be such an asshole towards me, I'm off to find someone who might appreciate the one night we spend together. Hell yes, time to shake up this crummy place. I'm back on the scene, baby!

* * *

I don't know why I haven't done this in so long! It feels awesome to be back out, actually socialising with people…normal people, who don't have to fight freaks, crazy old guys and the friggin' American army. With them around me, it's easy to pretend that my life is just like it was, before Weiss, before…Wait, what am I doing? There's booze, loud music and flesh-flashing chicks everywhere. It's all about the now! Let's see…how about an old classic of a game? Sit by the bar, and see how long it takes to get hit on. Wonder if I can beat my record of 83 seconds; that became one Hell of a night…

I make my way over to the bar, falling right back into my old skills of getting through the crowd without looking pushy or aggressive. This stuff is like riding a bike.

"What'll it be, gorgeous?"

"Just a scotch and coke, thanks Love."

No, the bartender doesn't count in this little game. Not that I haven't fallen into bed with my fair share of them. It's just that…Hello!

"What's a sexy guy like you doing here on your own? If the girlfriend stood you up, then she's definitely not worth it…"

Mental checklist: Female, gorgeous, blonde and I haven't had her before. Score!

"There's no girlfriend, but she'd definitely be ditched in a second for you,…?"

"It's Claire. What a coincidence; there's no boyfriend either. Keep a lonely girl company?"

Seventy six seconds; a new Kudoh record! And the crowd goes wild. This one's truly beautiful, too. Judging by the accent, I'd have to say British. Plus, she doesn't look a thing like…it's not important.

"You didn't even have to ask, Claire. I'm Yohji; let's dance."

I reach out and take her hand, gently leading her out onto the floor. Some fast-paced, industrial dance song blares out from all directions; the female vocals dripping with promise and sex. The crowd around us swells and pulses, pushing us closer together with every electronic whirr of the song.

It's not long 'til we're pressed flush against each other, moving to the sound of the beat. She gives me a wicked grin and leans up to speak right into my ear.

"This place is making me feel a little too…hot. You wanna get out of here?"

I'm guessing that the smile on my face matches hers right now. I simply nod at her, and put my arm around her waist to lead this new conquest back into the night.

* * *

Asuka…can't I just have one night where you don't come after me? A familiar scenario; I'm shackled to a medieval-style dungeon wall, and Asuka-Neu keeps walking up to me, laughing, and disappearing back into the darkness in front of me. I know that I'll only have to dream for a little while longer before she comes back with a gun, or my own wire…returning the deaths that I've put upon her…Yes, here she comes, right on time…

"Well, Yohji. You thought that you could bury my memory inside the filthy body of some club whore? Let me tell you something, again. No one else will ever have you like I did. You're my bitch, it's plain to see. I'm dead, but still…you belong to me. No one else. So, I think that you deserve a punishment…"

Gun? Wire? Gun? Wire?...Wire. I must say, it's been a while since I've had this dream. It's played out many times before, though; she'll approach, bringing out the wire from her…MY watch. I'll put up a token struggle, but it won't do any good. She'll choke the life out of me, all the while mocking me and asking if I now realise how she felt when I did it to her.

"It's time for you to learn what it's like to feel the bite of your own weapon."

The watch, identical to the one sitting on my chest of drawers, clicks open to reveal a spool of garrotte wire…She steps forward, her footfalls making no sound on the stone floor. She's so close now that I can feel her breath; it smells of death and decay. She grabs the back of my head so hard that it hurts, and I can practically feel the hair ripping out.

"You're at my mercy, Yohji. Helpless…worthless…useless…"

She presses her cold lips to my own- she tastes like poison, as if her mouth is a deadly trap intended to kill. It's an emotionless kiss, a simple, cruel parting gesture before she slaughters me. Again. I brace myself as I hear the gentle _swish_ of wire being pulled from its home, deciding to not even put up a fight. If I don't provide her with a struggle anymore, maybe she'll get bored and stop intruding on my dreams.

"Goodnight, baby. See you in Hell."

It's almost over. I'll wake up soon, just before the life drains out of me. Here it comes…Yes, I hear the sounds of choking, breath leaving the body but not coming back in…It's not me. Dream-me can still breathe fine…Oh God, my hands are around Asuka-Neu's neck, and I can't let go. My bare fingers are crushing her fragile windpipe, the chains from my wrist having fallen into dust somewhere along the line. She's opening and closing her mouth, gasping like she's trying to speak…

"Y-..Yo-…Sto-o-o-pp…"

I can't bear to watch. I close my eyes against the sight of myself killing her once more…this has never happened in a dream before…I feel Asuka-Neu go slack under my grip, and I open my eyes to the sight of pale skin and long…blonde...?

Shit, what've I DONE? Oh God, God, no…The woman from last night…Claire…she's lying under me, unconscious…Fuck, I hope she's only unconscious, pulse? Thank fuck, it's there; faint, but there. Ugly bruises are already starting to form on her once-flawless neck, I have to get out of here…there shouldn't be enough information for her to go to the police, Kritiker would probably 'forcibly retire' me if they knew I was strangling innocent women…a mentally fucked assassin isn't generally smiled upon.

I drag myself off her bed, quickly throwing on my clothes to fake some sort of normality. I have to go before she regains consciousness, even I can't talk my way out of this…Why did I have to go out? Why didn't I just apologise to Aya, and keep to the status quo? I just fucking knew that something ridiculous was going to go down. I think I can find my way out, we pretty much went straight from the front door to the bedroom…yes, here it is…thankfully I didn't drink much, so I know exactly where I am. It should only take about twenty minutes to get back to the house, a house full of people who won't let me strangle them…fuck. I've really done it this time.

Asuka…haven't I suffered enough? Why did you have to involve this poor woman, she could never even come close to replacing you. If you want me dead, just kill me…let me die, let me stop the dreaming and the tears. I can't do it myself…please…

* * *

I've only barely managed to stop myself from laying down in a gutter to die of exposure, and dragged myself into the house…I can't go to my rooms. I can't be alone right now; but I couldn't stay with innocents, they can't protect themselves from whatever I might do…I need someone like me, someone who won't die so easily at my hands…

This is a familiar door, at the end of a familiar walk down a familiar hallway. I've been in this room a lot, but never for something like this…It's four in the morning, and he'll probably kill me, but…the only person who can possibly help me, be it through listening to me or putting me out of my misery…he's behind this door…

I don't bother knocking, or speaking. He'll know, when I open the door, that someone's there. I just pray to whatever god I have to that it's unlocked. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, putting out one last wish to the universe. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I quietly turn it and hope that I don't meet the resistance of a lock. It continues to turn smoothly, and I slowly push the door open.

I hear movement from inside the room, and when I look up, Aya is crouched on the opposite side of his bed in a fighting posture. Even in my messed-up state, I can admire his reflexes and assassin skills. He's a truly amazing man.

"Kudoh? What the fuck are you doing? It's…after four a.m! Get out!"

He actually looks shocked. Well, I suppose we never did anything but fuck…We barely speak, and it's not like we ever got together outside of missions and sex…Why am I here? I have to go.

"I…Sorry, Aya…I don't know what I'm doing…I'll go, sorry about waking you up…"

I turn around to walk out of the room, taking a moment to make sure I'll get there without falling over or something. I'm just about to open his door again when I feel an arm on my shoulder. It sits for a second, and then retreats like it was never there.

But I know that it was there.

"Yohji…there's obviously something wrong. Talk."

To anyone else, that'd seem rude, like Aya was saying it out of duty instead of actual care. But I've known him for years, and…maybe I'm not just a body to him…

I sit at the foot of his bed, propped against the frame. He sits at the opposite end, looking almost…relaxed. His face seems tired, but those violet eyes are alert and intense. The look in them tells me to speak.

"I almost ki-…Aya, I nearly killed an innocent girl tonight. I woke up from a dream with my hands around her neck. I'm losing my mind…I need help…"

He doesn't speak. We sit in silence, but I can feel him watching me intently. He didn't seem freaked at my speech; I guess his icy façade is so well-practiced that it takes something major to move it. And me going crazy obviously isn't major.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, but…it's all because of Asuka. Her, Neu, Maki…they haunt me. They're sending me insane…it's too much…"

Shit, I can't cry in front of Aya…no one's seen me cry since…Neu…it's hard, but I can't…shit.

"Yohji, you need to sleep. Go to bed."

"I can't…can't be alone right now…I can't go out…"

I'm actually shaking…it's not cold, but I can't seem to stop trembling. I'm so goddamned weak…useless, just like Neu tells me, night after night…Aya's saying something, but he's mumbling under his breath and I can't make most of it out.

"…stupid…thinks…idiot fool…crashing…foolish idiot…waking…Alright, Yohji. If it'll shut you up for five minutes, get in. Get some sleep. We're not open tomorrow, so sleep properly and make sure that you will not be a danger to us."

…I thought he was going to chuck me out on my ass, but instead…he invited me to stay…we've never slept in the same bed before. He's no longer looking at me, having gotten into the bed and rolled away. I pull myself up the bed, and quickly slide under the covers; I don't know how long Aya's gonna be this accommodating. I lay down on my back, keeping a respectable distance between us. I don't need contact. I just need to know that he's here.

I almost say 'goodnight', but then think better of it. I feel…exhausted. The road to hell is long…my personal Kokoda…I may as well be rested for the journey in front of me.

The last thing I remember is Aya's breaths starting to even out, as the world turned black and I fell into the first dreamless sleep I can recall in a very long time.


	3. Track 003: Join Me In Death

**Track Three: Join Me (in Death)**

* * *

Yohji believes that HE is the one going insane? Hn, I shouldn't be surprised that the selfish prat thinks he's the only one with problems. Can't he see that we're all shattered to the core, breaking apart around each other? Why does it not occur to him that we all have our ghosts? Our problems? The thoughts that weigh us down, take over our waking hours?

Why can't he see how much I love him?

I've been pointlessly roaming the streets for hours, after I woke up and found my bed filled by the same man who fills my dreams. I couldn't stay there with him, the bliss of having Yohji sleeping next to me negated by the cruelty of the fact that he was only there because a woman drove him to find a familiar face. Yes, I want him in my bed; but I also want Yohji to need me, not just the comfort of the first person he thought of.

I feel a burning twinge on the outer surface of my right thigh…the psychosomatic shock from years-old scars, a horrible reminder of past pain that seems to flare whenever the mental pain I feel passes a certain threshold.

**{~~~~~~~~~~}**

_A darkened room's sole occupant is sprawled out on the floor, one leg bent at the knee to draw it closer to his body._

_Moonlight flashes through the half-open blinds, illuminating the leg that rises up from the rest of the body. Trailing down the pale skin to pool beneath him is a scarlet stream, staining the carpeted floor and rolled-up jeans._

_In his hand he grasps an antique katana, blade gleaming by that silver moonlight. His knuckles around the hilt are so tense as to appear white, even more pallid than his regular skin tone. _

_Once more, the man raises his forearm, the movement seeming languid and unhurried. The shape blade of the weapon makes contact with the raised, strongly-muscled thigh, just beneath an uncovered knee. _

_The man has no desire to end his life, no wish to take the easy path and finish his suffering. He simply yearns to feel, escape the loss of emotion that he can sense creeping up towards him._

_With every life he takes, the boy inside him disappears more fully. He feels so little, his only link to humanity being the blood that flows from his wounds, just as all creatures possess. _

_The pain binds the man to reality, awakening him rather than numbing his consciousness. For the first time in too long, he feels alive. _

_A small groan escapes the bleeding man, his arm falling back to the floor. His fingers release the sword, his hand stretching to search the floor for a new object._

_A reddened towel finds its way into his hold, the material crinkling slightly when the dried blood upon it is forced to separate._

_Pressing the filthy towel to his open wounds, he attempts to staunch the bloodshed._

_Still collapsed on the floor, the man drops into the subconscious realm of dreams, alone with his demons yet again._

**{~~~~~~~~~~}**

There are criss-crosses of scars on my upper leg, slowly fading as time passes. No new marks have joined them in several years, when I finally became drenched in enough blood from others that adding my own seemed superfluous. Ridiculous, youthful ideas, that I could save my innocence through self-mutilation…Now, I realise that there's nothing that could have possibly saved me.

I'm sure that Yohji's seen the scars. They're different to all the other marks that I bear, clearly not lacerations from battle with another. He's never mentioned them; not that it's surprising, we barely converse.

I…I want him to ask me about them.

But I never speak. When others ask anything, I reply with silence. Still, there's something about that irritatingly amazing man that makes me want to…open up, reveal everything, let him know all of my secrets.

He'll never ask. I've spent so long avoiding human social contact that he will never want to talk to me. The distance I've put between myself and others hasn't hurt this much before.

Fuck.

Why must I ruin everything that I do? Nothing can ever go right for me. When the prospect of happiness appears, something must always come up to destroy me again. Like Aya-chan…I was…_overjoyed_ when my reason for living woke up, became responsive to the love I could show only her.

But then…she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and saw us after a mission.

It had been a particularly bad night, and Ken was struggling to stay conscious after being stabbed in the stomach. Nothing life-threatening, but I was supporting him to walk, and covered in his blood.

When the back light flickered to life, I felt my heart stop. My sister, standing before us, a look of sheer horror on her youthfully pure features…my world collapsed. She finally convinced her body to move, and within a moment she was gone. Without even thinking through what I was doing, I shoved Ken into Omi and made to follow Aya-chan. The only thing that stopped me…was the hand that grasped my shoulder.

Furious, I turned to punch whoever was actually _touching_ me in the face. Yohji was clearly expecting the blow; he grabbed my hand, and used his grip to push me backwards.

"Clean yourself up. You're only going to terrify the poor girl more, if you try talking to her covered in blood. You should've gone through this shit with her earlier, dickhead."

He turned on his heel, put Ken's arm over his shoulder, and pushed past me into the house. Usually, I would have ripped him apart for his insolence, but his words barely registered in my muddled mind.

There's very little afterwards that I can recall…I showered quickly, then approached Aya-chan's door…the exact conversation is of little consequence, as I struggled to explain what we do as Weiss…she was never going to understand.

A week after that horrid night, she was gone.

I originally figured out where she was, but soon she moved on, and I lost her. At this current moment, she could still be in America, she could be in a place like Australia, or she could even be dead. That final thought no longer sickens me…I stopped feeling when she ran away. The only thing which can raise emotion in me now is…Yohji.

Now that my sister is no longer my charge, I do not truly comprehend why I continue to hold her name. She's living her own life, or has naturally come to end it. There is no reason why a shell of a man should be branded with her female moniker.

No…that's a lie. I _do_ know why I continue to go by Aya instead of my actual name. It's a terrifying reason, and I avoided the thought for a very long time.

I keep the name 'Aya'…because it was given to me by Yohji.

The sound of my mobile phone interrupts that potentially dangerous train of thought. A quick glance at the screen tells me it's the house phone calling…it doesn't take a genius to realise what I'm about to be told. I put the phone to my ear.

"Aya? It's Omi. We need you to come back, Manx is here."

"Hn."

I hang up on him, keeping our conversation short. There was no need for embellishment. Checking the time on my phone, it occurs to me that I've been out for ten hours, with no stopping or eating. Not that it matters. I prefer a weary body to staying near Yohji, and breaking my heart.

A mission awaits.

* * *

"Fuck! There's too many of 'em! I'll draw them off, you get the target!"

It takes all of my considerable willpower to NOT follow him. This mission has gone to shit; everything is different than we planned. Yohji and I weren't supposed to come across this many guards, there are too many for just the pair of us to handle.

I step back into the shadows of an empty room as security rounds the corner. Seeing Yohji up ahead, they all follow him. Idiotic lemmings; none of them even think to check for another person. I have to eliminate the target quickly, as even Yohji can't win a gunfight with a wire.

"Bombay, Siberian. There's trouble, unexpected guards on the third floor. Balinese needs backup."

"Got it. Be there in a couple of minutes."

Hopefully those two have nearly finished the data collection and can lend Yohji a hand. I desperately want to be there for him, but I have a mission to finish, and I refuse to let _emotions_ get in the way of my work. Let's see…recalling the blueprints I pored over earlier, this week's mad scientist-type should be through…Ah, yes, the door on my right.

I move to the office door, wary of any straggling guards who may appear in the hallway. Taking a split-second to ready myself, I slam the door open and throw myself inside and to the left. The room…smells like _blood_?

It takes me a moment to comprehend exactly what has happened here. A foreign man is sprawled out over his desk, a red pool colouring white paper and a blue shirt. A wound is dripping from the side of his head; most likely a bullet hole. The small pistol under his right hand seems to confirm this theory. With detached coldness, I walk over to the body. Gripping his long hair with one hand, I lift his head back. I recognise the face from the photos provided by Kritiker: it's definitely Nathan Clarke, English scientific genius and Dark Beast.

It seems that the weak man refused to join the list of people I have slaughtered. What a fool. Mission accomplished. Now to meet back with…

Fuck, Yohji!

Sprinting away from the dead man, I head towards last place I saw Yohji. Flicking on my communicator, I try to keep a steady voice.

"Balinese, where are you? I'm coming for you!"

…Nothing. Oh God, he has to be okay. I cannot handle losing someone else this important…even if he doesn't know it. I won't let him die here! The sound of my earpiece coming to life almost startles me.

"…third floor…*wheeze*…storage facility. Too many…"

Shit, he's in trouble! Where the Hell are Ken and Omi? Storage facility…that has to be about two hundred metres from here! Speeding up even more, I go in the direction remembered from the building's blueprints. Left turn…another left…sixth door on the right…

My mind blank out of fear for Yohji's safety, I kick my way through the partially closed door. In a matter of moments, I've taken note of my surroundings and calculated how best to proceed.

No plausible cover exists in the room; an estimate of eight uniformed men on the ground, unmoving; four uniformed men standing, and beyond them…a hunched figure with his right hand drawing a wire from his left wrist. I can just barely see the blood dripping from the sleeve of his coat. I yell his real name, momentarily forgetting codename protocol in my shaken state.

At the sound of my voice, the four upright guards turn almost simultaneously in my direction. Raising my katana, I charge towards them, dispatching the first with a quick sweep upwards through the gut. Hastily dislodging the sword from the man's chest, I duck a wild punch from the second man, rising to plunge my weapon directly through his throat. He gurgles through his own blood as he sinks to floor, also dead.

The remaining two have moved away from Yohji, who is now pressing his hand to his bicep. He lets out a small groan, the sound catching my attention as I instinctively turn towards him. My concentration fleetingly broken, the sound of a gunshot combined with the feel of a bullet grazing my leg is unexpected. Fuck, I can't let myself get distracted by Yohji! These guards will kill us both.

Running on pure adrenaline as I am, the graze barely hurts. I should be thankful that the incompetent shooter has not had enough target practice. Raising my sword again, I head back for the two men, veering off slightly to avoid more gunshots. In my fury, both at them and at myself, it seems as if time has slowed right down. Lifting to strike, I take both men out with a single deep slash, horizontal across the chests. Before they've even hit the ground, I've taken to Yohji's side, grabbing him around the waist to still the slight swaying movements he is making.

"Yohji! Are you okay?"

"Abys…Ab…Aya, yeah, I'm fine. Just a b-bit of blood, nothing t-too serious."

In my haste to get Yohji out of the room, I forget about the security force. With thoughts filled only with him, the prospect of more guards completely slips my mind. I don't notice the room's second entry opening, too concerned with keeping this vulnerable man upright. I do, however, notice the sound of twin shots and the burning pain in my stomach and upper back when the bullets enter and lodge themselves.

Releasing my grip on Yohji, a completely involuntary action, I fall to the ground as my vision blackens and narrows. I hear the familiar voice cry my name in concern, almost panic, but surely…it's merely the fancy of a quickly fading mind.

Why do I forget about everything when he's near?

* * *

**~Yohji's P.O.V.~**

* * *

He should be waking soon. Doctor Tsukiyono patched him up nicely, just another injury in our line of business. The gash on my arm where one of those bastards knifed me was also stitched and covered, there's nothing else wrong with me. So why do I feel so…injured?

It's not like Aya's never been hurt. God, he's been worse. He didn't even have to go to the bloody hospital, because the bullets are staying in. He might still be unconscious, but he's breathing fine and more likely to win the lottery than die at this point. So why…

Why am I sitting by his bed like some sort of frantic wife? Sure, I slept in here last night, but…we're not even friends! I don't feel for the guy, it's nothing like that. I just can't be bothered moving…I guess…It's not emotional!

"Aya…what've you _done_ to me?"

Shit, talking to a sleeping man. I really am nuts. Especially as, in the possible case that he's awake, he'll probably try and kill me if he realises I'm here. He might have been nice to me hen he was pretty much sleepwalking but…I haven't forgotten about what he said when I had him pushed against the wall. My head flicks up when I hear the door open. It's Omi, looking concerned as usual.

"Yohji, you look totally exhausted. Go to bed, I'll stay here."

"Thanks, Omi, but…"

"No buts, Yotan! I heard you come in the door last, or rather, _this_ morning, you need sleep! Go, get out! Look, I'll even wake you when he opens his eyes, if you really want."

"Nah, Omi, it'll be right. I'll go to bed. But don't stay up on this prick's account too long, you've got your own shit to worry about. See you tomorrow, kid."

"Goodnight, Yohji."

He lets the 'kid' remark slide, which is pretty odd. He's probably just happy that I gave in so quickly. He didn't even have to pull out The Eyes. But I didn't want him thinking too far into the fact that I was sitting with Aya- I'm pretty sure that he has no idea what Aya and I do…did.

Fuck me, I'm stuffed. I guess Omi was right and I really do need to go to bed. I didn't get up 'til midday today, but earlier events…it really took it out of me. Everything's piling up. The dreams, that poor blonde girl, Aya getting shot helping me…I'm now pretty much in the debt of every other Weiss member. Aya for stopping the guards from killing me…Ken and Omi for getting the other two security guys before they could shoot again…I didn't help at all. God knows if Aya even got the target…but the mission would come before me. It would have to, for that human icicle.

But why does that thought _hurt_?

Ah, screw it; guess I'm just going crazier in my old age. Bed time. Definitely.

* * *

"Keep running, Asuka! We can lose them in the alley!"

…This again. I almost wish that I'd kept count of every time I had this dream- we must nearly be in the several thousands by now. Again and again…from memory, it's going to be three minutes and twenty-eight seconds until she's dead in my arms. I want to turn around, run in a different direction, but I hold no control over my legs. I'm a spectator inside my own body, aware of my thoughts but unable to change anything.

Running, jumping over piles of trash, weaving through alleys and back roads. It's perfectly familiar, no detail unchanged. The gunshot hits…now. Stumbling a bit further, we collapse against a filthy wall. I plead with her to run. Can we get this over with and wake up, already? It's too much for me. I don't need more weighing me down right now.

Reminiscent of the dreams and today's mission, another gun sounds just after Asuka gets up to run. She's hit in…the stomach and the upper back? Two wounds? This hasn't happened before…each detail is usually eerie in its conformity. The figure before me falls to the ground and…it's not Asuka. It's not even female. Before I can process any of this, a scream tears from my throat, animalistic and raw.

"AAAYYYYAAA!"

I still have no control over my movements, but the dream has gone further than usual. Practically crawling to his prone form, I desperately check for a pulse that I somehow know won't be there. I'm proved right, and the scene around me begins to dim and dissolve as I sit holding his pale body, red hair brushing against my arms.

* * *

"You in there, man? Yoh-ji, is there life inside? Earth to Yohji!"

"Oh, shut up, dickhead. Go play with some poor innocent kiddies or something."

Can't Ken get that I have no time for bickering with him, because my thoughts are…preoccupied. Every moment of that dream has been replaying in my head. I've studied it, tried to get frigging tiny little hints about the meaning, and even looked up a dream dictionary on the internet!

But it's all come back to one thing. I like Aya. I _like_ Aya? Oh my God, what am I? This is reducing me to a tittering high school girl! It isn't possible that I could feel anything for Aya. I mean, we fucked for ages, surely something would've come up before now! I've never loved a man. Never even come close.

Besides, I can't love anymore. Asuka made sure of that. Look at what she did the other night with that girl…sending me to Aya…

Realisation hits me harder than anything before. The dream…what it tells me…If Aya died…I would die too. He could've died for me yesterday…he only got hurt, and it completely threw me out.

My hands grip in my hair, the sensation waking my mind, and the movement catching Ken's attention.

"Yohji, are you okay? Something wrong? You're acting totally weird!"

"I…Yeah, Ken, I'm fine. Just tripping slightly. It's-…What the fuck?"

Thank God for timely interruptions. Aya staggered into the store, obviously determined to act normal, but clearly hurting from his wounds. Stupid, stubborn, foolish bastard! He shouldn't be up!

"Aya, get back inside! You shouldn't be out here, dickwad!"

"Oh, don't act like you care, you stupid a-ah!"

It's bad when raising his voice hurts him. It's his favourite thing to yell at people! Seeing him hurting…it's bad. Shit, I'm gone now, aren't I? All this crap out being emotionless towards him…I really do like Aya. It took him getting shot for me to realise it, but…I want him.

It's all making sense…why I acted so irrationally when he broke off our fucking…why my world felt like it was collapsing when he got shot…the dream…my God. It's true…I'm in love with a man who doesn't have feelings. Who barely knows how to be civil. Who is the most beautiful person I've ever laid my bloodstained hands on.

Somewhere, Neu is laughing her despicable little head off. This has to be a punishment. Unrequited love for a man who I had…but somehow drove away. Shit, Aya's shaking dangerously on his feet now…

"That's it. I'm dragging you back to your room, even if I have to knock you out. Come quietly, because I have no problem with hurting you a little more."

A cocky façade…I can't let him know that anything has changed. If he picks up on it, he'll run faster than the speed of light in the opposite direction. Walking over to him, I slip my good arm around his waist…a mirror image of yesterday, when I was the injured one. He's putting up a weak struggle; it just makes me more determined. He's going back to bed.

"Work _with_ me here, idiot! I move my arm up, and it'll be right on your wound. You don't want that, now do you?"

"Shut up and help, if that's the way you're so inclined. I have no interest in your pathetic whinging and baseless threats."

Swallowing my anger, I move him back into the house. I feel like I never want to let go of his slim waist…if I do, I'll never get to touch him again. It's my fault he got hurt…if I let go, I can't protect him. I'm…possessive. It's all too much…

"Let me GO, fool! You don't need to come in, if I made it to the store I can get to my bed. Just…get out of here, Yohji!"

There's something in his voice, his eyes…it seems oddly familiar…he's lost! It's the same as the way he acted when I was pressed against him…the pure confusion that he's trying to hide…

Like in one of my dreams, I feel as if I have no control of my body. I keep my arm around him, walking him right up to his bed. My mind is screaming for me to leave before he attacks, forget this bullshit that I'm hallucinating. Aya feeling uncertain? It can't be real.

As if possessed, I lay him back on his bed. Like I'm dealing with a fucking woman. The look in his eyes has changed to venomous anger; I think he's come to that same 'female' conclusion. I really might get killed here. Still…I can't stop. Leaning over slightly to press him back into the bed, I catch sight of his mouth. It's open slightly, as Aya pants through the pain of fairly fresh wounds. For once, I actually think my next move through.

It's suicidal, and I'm fully aware of this fact. But I want to do it; so I do. For the first time in too long, I press my mouth to his. He stiffens slightly, but his mouth stays open. The feel of his lips is intoxicating…even more so because I know that this could be our last kiss. He's about to throw me out. I don't want to be rejected again. Before he can bite me, I draw off. It takes a massive amount of resolve…my heart feels like its ripping apart. I don't want to leave him here…but I have to. It's best that way.

Without saying a word, I turn to leave the room. Fighting the pain that threatens to overcome me, I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. That's when I feel it. A hand grasps the waist of my pants, using surprising strength to spin me around and knock me off balance. I fall to my knees, trying desperately not to fall right onto Aya.

The hand moves to the back of my neck, and my head is dragged down to his, joining our lips once again. The feeling of his tongue battling into my mouth to meet with my own…it's bliss.


	4. Track 004: Right Here In My Arms

*******If you've been following the songs that this fic follows, for this chapter's lyrics you should reverse the gender-specific words. It'll work better that way, hahaha!*******

**Track Four: Right Here in My Arms**

* * *

Gently pulling myself from the kneeling position, still keeping our lips and tongues connected, I lean across to put one hand on either side of Aya's head. Biting softly on his lower lip, one of my legs is swung across so that I'm straddling the beautiful man before me. Feeling the tell-tale bulge in his crotch, my answering erection is pressed against it. The near-electric jolt the contact causes makes me tighten my knees about his waist, and Aya lets out a small gasp of pain.

Feeling like I've been burnt, I jump straight off his body with apologies falling from my mouth like liquor from a bottle. I can't believe that I forgot about the whole 'shot twice while trying to help me' thing!

"Oh, don't be such a fool, Yohji! Do you really think that I'm that _precious_? A little pain is nothing."

"Well…No, but-…I mean, Aya, I don't want to hurt you!"

"What brought this bout of chivalry on? Spare me; we've had rough sex before. How is this different?"

"Aya. You have to understand that this is _different _to all those other times. You know as well as I do that this isn't just emotionless fucking anymore. I'm not going to hurt you."

…Clearly, my mouth has a death wish that it's never told the rest of my body about. Why the Hell am I trying to talk about emotions with Aya? A grumpy, injured, _horny_ Aya? My dick is telling me to flip him over and fuck him into the mattress…my brain is telling me to run before I get a sword somewhere nasty…but the rest of me wants to stay and just hold him. I s'pose they'll have to compromise.

"Hn. I really don't feel like having this conversation. Get in or get out."

My mind switches naturally into problem-solving mode, going through my options here. If I listen to my brain and leave, he's never going to want to have anything to do with me ever again. If I listen to my dick, he'll be happy, but it'll only help him believe that I really don't care for him. Door three, however…

"Alright, alright, I'll stop talking and get in the bed. We're not having sex, though."

Seeing the look on his gorgeous features that means he's about to start snarling, I hurry up and finish my sentence. This is pretty important, after all.

"…But that doesn't mean we can't still have some fun. On one condition; I get in, and I'm staying tonight. Your call, Aya."

Good to see that I'm not the only one confused here. Aya's clearly struggling with something, probably his hatred of emotional intimacy and his raging sex drive. I'm hoping that I've exercised his cock enough to make it be able to yell louder than his fears.

Sighing in defeat, Aya slides away from the edge of his bed. That's really more of an invitation than I dared hope for, and it's hard to resist dancing for joy. That'd probably be frowned upon, though.

It's only when I'm toeing off my shoes that I remember: It's the middle of the freaking afternoon, and I'm supposed to be working. But when I look over to the redhead sprawled out on his bed, waiting for me, I really lose the ability to give a fuck about the store.

"Can we hurry it up a bit, Yohji?"

Huh, always so damned impatient. I finish taking off my boots, followed by the jacket I was wearing. Kneeling next to Aya on the bed, I look up into violet eyes, seeing myriad emotions battling it out in there.

I decide to put that little observation aside for later.

A smile appears on my lips and I unzip Aya's pants, swallowing him down in one smooth motion. He gasps and thrusts further on pure instinct. To stop from gagging, I lightly grab his hips, being incredibly careful not to go near the lower gunshot wound. Holding him down, I moan when I increase the suction on his dick, enjoying the slightly strange taste of his pre-come as my tongue flicks over the slit. The noise vibrates along him, and he groans; a gorgeous sound that always gets me hot.

Sliding my lips and tongue along his length, drawing back when his breathing eventually becomes ragged and quick, I will my throat to relax.

"Uhhhh…YOHJI!"

Aya's muscles stiffen and he pulses in my mouth as I swallow everything he lets out. Realising my grip is getting hard enough to bruise his hips, my fingers release him and he sags back into the bed. His face twists when he lands on his wounds, and he moves about to lie comfortably.

"…Thanks…"

…Wow, can't say he's ever _thanked_ me before. Then again, I haven't really blown him much; it was always get together, fuck, run away. The rest of the bases were never really visited.

I clean the last bits of come from his cock with my tongue and tuck him back in. Glancing up, I see Aya's eyes slowly closing. Looks like the injuries, the venture into the store and the frankly quite amazing blowjob took everything out of him.

Sadly, I have to take my eyes off him to put my jacket and shoes back on. When I manage to get my eyes back to the amazing sight before me, I nearly burst out laughing. Aya's asleep, with the most bloody adorable smile I've ever seen on him. Actually, it's one of the only smiles I've ever seen on him. He looks…at peace, like there're no problems in the world, just relaxation. I lean down to kiss him on the cheek, breathing in the vague scent of Aya and sex.

The smell makes my dick scream even louder than usual and I suddenly feel my own, er, _hard_ problem.

Taking one last glance at Sleeping Beauty, I hightail it to the bathroom for a wank before I have to get back to work. I'll just tell Ken that Aya put up a fight or something, and that's why it took so long. He'll have been okay on his own.

* * *

"Never fear, I'm back, and the vicious kitty is in bed. Mission accomplished!"

I sail back into the store, as fabulous as always. Ken's standing around, talking to Omi. Guess I was…_away_ longer than I thought if school's out already. They both turn, Omi laughing and Ken looking pissed.

"Did it have to take you that goddamned long, Yohji? You were supposed to chuck Aya back into bed and come back, not have a smoke break and a happy little rest!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You'd be surprised how much of a fight that pissy bastard can put up, even injured and swaying on his feet. And if I wanted to have a cigarette to deal with the stress, that's my deal!"

"There's just no arguing with you, is there? For crying out loud, I'd-…What's that on your top?"

Crap, shit, fuckittyfuck_fuck_! I didn't spill any, did I? My head flicks down to my shirt, and I see it. Pulling the material out from my chest, the whitish stain glares back at me. I forgot to check for mess! Oh God, I hope they don't click to what it is.

"Argh, shit! Dunno what it's from, but I gotta go change. Can't have the fangirls seeing me messy! It'd shatter all their little fantasies."

"Traffic wasn't bad so I got here early, but they'll be arriving soon, Yotan! Be quick!"

…I don't think Omi's clued on. Ken looks a little suspicious, but me bedding Aya is probably the last possibility in his mind. That's lucky, because I'm fairly certain that Aya _still_ doesn't want 'us' getting out.

I wonder if he's ever going to admit to his feelings. I know that he feels more for me than just 'teammate with benefits'. Otherwise, he never would have lost his shit the way he did when those guards nearly had me; the Abyssinian I know would also never have forgotten to check for other security. He wouldn't have gotten shot. Then there was the way he didn't quarter me when I wandered into his room at that ridiculous hour, and how he let me sleep with him.

He feels for me…and the thought doesn't make me want to run for the hills. Sure, I'm terrified that he's going to be cut down like everything else I love, but…I don't want to live in fear. It's bad enough sleeping in fear, fighting the nightmares that have started to feature a certain gorgeous redhead.

I love Aya…and I don't think that even Asuka could change that. But he's a different story. He's so fucked up that he'll probably push me away now. I'm not gonna let that happen. I'll never leave him alone until he admits what I know is true.

Striding back into the house, my mind is racing with plans about Aya.

* * *

It's just after midnight, and the youngest two Weiss members aren't around to see what I'm about to do. Shirtless, but wearing trackie pants for once, I slip into the hallway, my assassin training kicking in. Avoiding the creaking floorboards and keeping footsteps to a minimum, I slip over to Aya's room and try his door. It's unlocked again; either Aya's getting sloppy or…he's waiting.

I push the door open, and it occurs to me that I'm in a much better way than I was last time I did this. The thought of a woman hasn't crossed my mind since the mission…Fuck, but I've got it bad.

"Leave me the Hell alone, Omi. The bandages are fine."

I smirk at that. He sounds tired; guess I woke him. His back is to the door so he can't see that it's me. Putting on my best Omi voice, I act like the smartass I am.

"But Ayan, I thought you might have started to bleed again after Yotan sucked you dry and blew your mind!"

He practically falls out of bed at that. He rolls onto his other side, facing me and glaring up a storm.

"I'm tired. Once again, get in or get out."

The claws come out, and I'm resisting the urge to crack up laughing. Aya can be absolutely hilarious when he's being scary. But he's also still terrifying; laughing will probably get me castrated.

I slip into the bed, facing Aya. Putting an arm around his bare waist, carefully missing the sore spots, I pull him close and tuck his head under my chin. He resists a bit at the motion, but I'm assuming that he's too tired to really care, because he gives up pretty quickly. I smile, and whisper into his soft hair.

"Goodnight, Aya. Make sure you're here when I wake up this time."

He makes his usual monosyllabic grunting noise, and I think about what that could mean until I hear him fall asleep. Feeling exhausted myself, I ignore the whimpering of my dick at being this close to Aya without actually being inside him, and close my eyes.

* * *

I wake up the next morning at the feel of Aya trying to escape from the hold I have on him. Deciding to let him struggle a bit longer, I keep my eyes shut and tighten my grip. He swears quietly under his breath, and tries to loosen my arm without hurting himself or disturbing me. It's been long enough.

"Aya, stay still. We need to talk, whether you like it or not. I'm hoping that you'll like it; we can be done quicker that way. Not that I have a problem with staying in bed holding you here, all day long."

He goes still; I'm not falling for it. I let him go and he's going to take off, that much I'm sure of. I'm going to start my tirade, see if I can draw him into conversation.

"I…Aya, what is it that we have here? Sure, we started off as fuckbuddies, but…it's more now. I can see it in your eyes that you know. Listen, I get that emotions scare the shit out of you or whatever. You think that I'm not the same way? We're both completely messed up. Relationships, with lovers or with family, have always ended badly for us. Why else would we be here, if not for that?"

I pause, trying to gauge his reaction. Fuck, he's gone blank. This is useless. Sighing, I let my arm fall from his waist. Predictable he slips away, and I roll onto my back; I knew this was too good to be true. I hear the wardrobe open, and clothes begin slithering about. Then, it stops.

"Yohji…I…Oh, never mind."

That catches my attention; Aya usually only speaks calculated sentences, not generally stumbling about on his words. It occurs to me that this is my only chance, that it's now or never.

"Aya, stop and look at me."

Sitting up, I watch Aya turn halfway towards me. I motion that he needs to be fully facing me, and for once he complies. Breathing deeply, I throw myself into the fire.

"Aya…I love you. It's that simple."

With surprising speed, Aya moves to the door, opens it and disappears into the hall. I drop back to the bed, trying desperately to convince myself that it's just his way of dealing, and he isn't _really_ flat-out rejecting me.

It doesn't work, and I feel a heat behind my closed eyelids. Everything around me smells like Aya…I have to get away. Pulling myself out of the bed and leaving the room, I immediately collide with a distracted Ken.

"Hey, watch it, Ay-YOHJI? Uh…why the Hell are you coming out of…"

I cut him off by shoving past, knocking him into the wall. His confused and angry whining is ignored as I walk to my own room, wishing that it was Aya I walked into at the same time as I'm glad he's not out here.

Ditching the damned uncomfortable sleep pants and crawling naked into my empty, cold bed, I consider everything that's happened since Aya told me he didn't want to have sex anymore.

I almost killed an innocent girl; that's fucked up. I almost died; I only lived because Aya was there. Aya almost died; entirely my fault, including the fact that he's now got two bullets lodged in his torso. I realised that I love an antisocial fool; he'll never be able to admit to feeling the same. I screwed my chances with said fool, and now he's left me; I'm empty, alone and depressed. Just wonderful.

I fall asleep again, waiting for the dreams to come.

* * *

"Don't kill him…just kill me as usual, and leave him out of this. Please."

Oh God, I've been reduced to begging. What is happening to me?

"Hmm, well, you see, I really have nothing to do with what goes on here. I can't help it if your guilty mind is tearing itself apart about killing me. Twice. It's not my decision to pit your two loves against each other. So you can die, sure, but only as soon as you've seen me win out over this ridiculous substitute."

What nonsense is she spouting now? My thinking on her words is cut short as Neu pulls a katana from thin air…Aya's katana. I'd recognise the deadly weapon anywhere, even as it's penetrating his body in a gore-filled parody of Seppuku. Trying to reach the pair, I yell for the dying man.

"Aya!"

"…yes?"

The quiet voice throws me out of my dream. It takes a second for it to register that the voice was not from my mind, but rather from in front of me. Opening my eyes, I take in the sight of Aya leaning stiffly against my closed door. Pain flares deep inside at the sound and vision of him, warring with the joy brought on by the fact that he's _here_. Opening my mouth to say something, I decide against it and simply watch him fidget around uncomfortably.

He moves toward me, and I draw my legs closer to my body. He sits on the foot of my bed, wincing slightly as his back settles against the wooden bed end and knocks the injuries. I pull myself into a sitting position so that we're eye-to-eye, trying to read each other's faces…I can't take this silence.

"How long were you standing there?"

"…About ten minutes. You were tossing so much…"

So, maybe it wasn't complete rejection that I suffered earlier. But I don't want to hope. It only leads to pain. Aya looks down, fiddling with my bedcover and hiding his eyes from me.

"Yohji…did you mean it when you said that you love me?"

There's nothing to do here but tell the truth, really. I don't want to lie to Aya. He deserves better than that.

"Yes, I love you. I have for a while…I just didn't know it until I saw you almost die because of me. It's clichéd but…I realised that I didn't want to live without you. That's no lie, Aya."

He goes quiet and still, clearly thinking hard. Or possibly fighting an internal battle, one that I'll never get to witness. I'd love to be inside that head, to see how he thinks; but if I could do that then I'd probably be in Schwartz and trying to kill Aya…this line of thinking is horrible.

"Yohji, I…"

He mutters something that I can't hear. Judging by the flush I can _just_ see on his white face, it was something important, too. As much as I hate to ask him to repeat himself, I have no choice, so I do. He lifts his head to meet my eyes again.

"That was…I…love you too, Yohji. That's why I broke things off between us…"

I'm sure that his logic makes sense on some planet, but it's the first sentence that is important to me, so that's the one I focus on. He actually just told me how he feels? This is…unexpected. So I deal with it in the only way I know.

"I'm glad you told me, Aya. Get in here; I'm not letting you run away again."

Oops, probably not the best idea to remind him of that. He's probably just assumed that I think he's a coward. That's the last thing I'd ever call him.

"I don't think so. It's ten in the morning, and the others are probably about to barrel in here to drag you out. It seems that us being in bed together would be…_problematic_ to explain."

Ah, so it's not the fact that he's embarrassed, it's the fact that he hates awkward situations. That's why he doesn't want them to find out! Oh well, no worries there…

"Ah, no sweat! I think Ken's already pieced it together, so he'll probably keep Omi distracted and stay away."

Aya looks shocked. I should really fill him in.

"Well, y'see, I kind of walked into him when I was leaving your room this morning. Slammed him into a wall too, it was hilari-…anyway, yesterday after I left you in bed and went back to work, he noticed a stain on my shirt. Guess you accidentally came on my top a little, because it was definitely sus. 'Cause he's not an idiot, he probably put two and two together. I think we're safe."

He doesn't look convinced, so I lean forward and pull him towards me by the collar of his shirt. The movement makes the covers slip off me, revealing me in all my naked glory. Aya's gaze instinctively slips downwards, and I laugh. When he looks back up, I see that he's smiling too. It doesn't quite take over his eyes, though…there's a pain deep in them that I don't think I can ever erase.

Deciding to deal with that later as well, I grab the hem of Aya's shirt and take it off for him. He keeps the pants, but I'm not going to push the issue too much. I have him here, with me…that's all I need.

Pulling the covers around him and me, we fall back into the position we held in his bed. Not falling asleep this time, I amuse myself by playing with his hair, and he skims light patterns around my back. The need to talk is obvious but…he doesn't want to.

Despite the fact that I'm ecstatic, a sadness lingers around the room. Aya…he's so lost. I want to comfort him, but that's something I'm not good at. All I can do is put on a cheerful face, and hope his sadness disappears on its own…I want him to be happy, above all else.

Because I love him, and he loves me.


	5. Track 005: Bury Me Deep Inside

*******Shameless plug: I started a super-happy-fun-times Weiss/Saiyuki crossover, and thought I'd tell you all because seriously, who checks the crossover categories? So, if you're feeling that way inclined, please check it out: "_En Masse_". Now, on with the angst.*******

* * *

**Track 5: Bury Me Deep Inside Your Heart  
**

* * *

He sleeps restlessly nearly every night, tossing and turning. There's nothing I can do for him; the only times that he sleeps well come after missions, when he's so exhausted that dreams can't pervade his mind.

He says that he loves me. For a month, again and again, he's been telling me how much he loves me. But why, then, does he call _her_ name in his sleep?

I knew that this was a terrible idea, that we should never have gotten together. I'm just a replacement for some dead whore, because Yohji will never get over that woman and the way he killed her. It never hurt this much when all we did was fuck, because I knew that I was just a body to him; but when he said that he loved me, I thought that I actually meant something, that he was finally moving into the present.

I guess I was wrong.

Here we are, on another night, replaying the same scenario as always. I woke up when he started to move about, muttering in his sleep about something I couldn't quite hear. Sleep has fled, and I doubt that I'll be getting any more now. I'm simply lying here, staring at the ceiling, running my fingers through Yohji's hair. It calmed him slightly, but soon enough he started to mumble again. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I love him, I truly do, but with every day that passes, it seems more and more one-sided.

I'm a flawed killer; how can I possible compete with the memory of a dead girl? She can't bring Yohji new hurt, and she will never leave him. The best I can do is hope that he never tires of me.

"A-…Don't!...Asuka…"

The sound of her name…the syllables that mean so little to me, but everything to Yohji…he doesn't really want me. It's clear that I'm only here so that he can pretend that she still shares his bed. I can't, I _won't_ let Yohji wallow in his past. I couldn't give a shit what happens to me, but if I'm enabling him to drown in grief, then I can't take it! I have to get out of here.

Moving quietly from the bed, I stand looking at the figure left alone in there, looking small and vulnerable in the large bed that takes up quite a portion of our…_his_ room. My hands unconsciously wrap around my shirtless torso, fingers absently tracing a scar that runs across my left bicep. I don't want to leave him here but…he'll never be able to let go of his past if he has me playing the part of Asuka.

I take a final look at the restlessly sleeping man, tanned shoulders bared by the sheets, and walk out into the hallway. Breathing deeply, fully considering what I'm about to do, I go back to my own room. I haven't slept here in a month, ever since I watched Yohji sleep and he confessed to me…but here I am once again, broken because I was foolish enough to believe that something good could actually happen to me.

I'm in my own bed, alone as I have been for years…I should be used to this, I shouldn't need to know that there's a lanky body pressed up next to me…But in the space of a month, solitude has become too much for me. I'm weak, I'm useless now, a pitiful excuse for a human with real emotions. I don't deserve to have anyone sleep next to me…I don't deserve to have people acknowledge me…I don't deserve to be alive. There's nothing for me while I'm living. Maybe if I was dead, Yohji would elevate me to the same status that Asuka enjoys in his heart.

I don't want to die, but that's nothing but a weakness, a fear of death. I'm a coward.

The clouds outside scatter, and moonlight shines through the uncovered window. The silvery beams seem to point directly towards the corner of my room, where a polished katana rests against the wall, glinting under the invading light. Although the blood is washed from its blade, I can still sense it, the blood of the guilty and the blood of my own body. It's my own life essence that falls more freely from the blade, though, the memories of nights with moonlight like this passing through my mind at breakneck speeds.

The release of pain, the feeling of bliss that followed when I started to black out from some of the deeper cuts…a shiver runs through me, but whether it's from the memories or the cold, I don't know.

I could tell that sleep wasn't going to come, but now my mind keeps returning to the same place. All I can think about is the peace that comes from bleeding out over the floor…the pain that purifies, that lets me live to kill another day…

My mind switches to autopilot, retracing the motions it used to go through years ago. Getting out of the bed, I walk to where my katana stands, admiring the way it catches the moonlight upon its blade. Weighing it in my hands, the familiar feeling of holding a deadly weapon is strangely relaxing.

From the nearly-empty wardrobe I grab an old shirt. It's white but it will have to do; I don't have the patience for digging something else up. Placing the katana on the floor, I lower myself to sit next to it, throwing the shirt beside me. I grab the sword in my right hand and use my left to pull up the leg of my pants, the anticipation making the movement rough and fast.

Yohji is completely gone from my mind, as I'm focused only on myself and the sharp blade in my hand. The world beyond this room fades away, save for the light coming in the window, and my existence no longer matters. Emotionally, I'm gone, my mental capacity narrowed until all that is inside me is physical pain. The feel of the blade running through my skin is all I know. My hand shakes, and the blade moves further than I intended.

I look down at the limb, blood flowing from the wound. I think…that I cut too deep. Feeling slightly woozy, I grab the shirt and ball it up, pressing it against my thigh while enjoying the sting of the material against damaged flesh.

Lying on the floor, sleep finally comes.

* * *

I feel arms around me…familiar arms, ones that I know have held me before. At the edge of my consciousness, I hear someone…crying? I hope they're not crying for me, it's not worth the effort.

"Aya…Aya, why did you do it? I should've been here…Fuck, I gotta clean him up!"

It's Yohji…he sounds panicked. Why does he care? Maybe I bled onto his favourite shirt…Not that it matters, he's leaving. Good, now I can get some more sleep…Selfish bastard, waking me up for no good reason…

The door slams back against the wall, and I hear feet running into the room. The person, Yohji again I suppose, kneels down beside me.

"Can you hear me, Aya? I'm going to have to stitch up your wound…Come on, say something, Aya! Please!"

Limply, I raise my arm, trying to wave him away. He doesn't care, so why must he bother me? I feel him grasp my hand, and I want to shake his false sympathy away. I don't want pity, whether it's real or simply a charade. He holds tight, and I don't have the energy to stop him from touching me.

"Okay, Aya, you have to let go of the shirt. I can't help you if you don't let me at your wound."

"Yo-…Leave me alone…I don't want you here, you don't care about me…let alone love me…I want to stay here…I'll be fine without you…"

My voice sounds weak, and it sickens me. Something wet lands on my face…he's crying on me? Why would he do something like that?

"What are you saying, Aya? Of course I love you, and you _won't_ be fine unless I can patch you up. I really don't want the others to see you like this, but I'll get them if I have to!"

His other hand lands over mine, pressed against the shirt I've somehow managed to keep across my thigh. I don't know how he figures that I need stitches…he can't see the cut. I guess there's blood everywhere; I wasn't as careful last night as I usually am. Out of practice, I suppose.

To get him to be quiet, I drop my right hand to the floor. The shirt, however, stays exactly where it was. I start laughing, because there's something about it that's intrinsically funny. I can't pinpoint what, exactly, but it's definitely funny. Ah, I think my laughter has disturbed Yohji…

"Okay, Aya, just…stop moving, okay? On the count of three, I'm going to peel the shirt away, and it's gonna hurt. One…Two…Three!"

I register the fact that there's a painful pulling on my leg, but it really doesn't bother me. I've felt worse physical pain, and it's all just unimportant to me. He's doing it so slowly…I wish he'd move faster so that he will leave me alone sooner…

"It's almost off…Holy FUCK, Aya, I can't believe you did this to yourself…it's all my fault, it has to be…Oh God, love, why…Listen, Aya, gorgeous, I'm about to stitch you up. Just hang on, please, Aya! Stay awake here…"

Having him so close to me…I should adore it, but all I can think is that he doesn't really like me, let alone love me. I love him, for some idiotic reason that I can't divine…but he's just using me as a substitute. He should leave me alone…

I'm still lying on the floor with my eyes closed. I don't want to look at him. He's saying something else, but I'm not listening, too lost in thoughts about _why _he's bothering with me. Once again, I vaguely register the feel of getting stitches, but it's not affecting me.

"Almost done, Aya…There, you're stitched up. I suppose I can't talk to you now…I don't even know if you're awake…Guess not…but Aya, if you can hear me, I truly do love you. I don't want anyone else…You're all I want…I love you, Aya!"

I'm so tired still…My senses start to fade, and I fall asleep to the sound of his lies and the feel of his hand pressed against mine.

* * *

It's been a week since Yohji found me, bloodied and cut open over my bedroom floor. As usual, he's been saying that he loves me…but he still doesn't. I have to talk to him; I have to know what's going through his mind! But every time I try to ask…he changes the subject. He clearly doesn't trust me.

"Hey, Aya, whatcha doing here alone? I-…"

Because Yohji disturbed my peace, I'm going to make him talk to me, open up to me. He loses his sentence when I grab him, pulling him down so that he's sprawled over the floor next to me.

"Geez, man, if you're that horny you could've just-"

"Shut UP! Yohji, this is serious. What the Hell is going on with you?"

For a second, an expression of confusion passes over his face. The true emotion is depressingly fleeting, though…it's soon replaced by a huge smile, the kind that sickens me to the depths of my stomach. I turn my head away, unable to witness such an obviously fake expression.

"There's nothing wrong, Aya! Everything's okay, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm in love with the most beautiful guy in Japan, and probably the world!"

His voice, joyful and phoney, is incredibly difficult to listen to. His words are false. Is everything he does a lie? I can barely bring myself to speak to him, but I know that I have to. If we don't go through this, I can't keep seeing him everyday, sleeping next to him each night. It's too painful.

"Yes, there is, Yohji. Every time I try to talk to you, you put on a bright smile and pretend that everything is okay! Everything you do is fake, so how can I possibly believe a word you say?"

He looks like he's about to interject; I continue before more falsities can fall from his lips.

"Just once, ONCE, I want to hear you say that there's something wrong. You don't talk to me about anything important, and we've been together for a month! It's clear that you don't trust me, and if you don't trust me, you can't possibly love me. Why are you lying to me, lying to yourself? I'm not the one you love!"

The smile drops, and I mentally sigh in relief. I'm getting through to him, for the first time. But I need him to talk to me…I have to make him see that I won't be a substitute. A look of intense anger comes over his face…he begins to yell, a show of emotion that would usually be hidden away inside, behind a beaming grin.

"Why do you keep SAYING that, Aya? I've never lied to you, and yet you STILL continue to accuse me of completely stupid SHIT! I. Love. YOU, and if you're so emotionally fucked that you can't see it, that's not my problem! There is NO ONE ELSE, okay? If one of us is messed up, it's YOU! You're self-mutilating, and I want to help you, but you're just as closed off!"

Lies, he keeps lying to me! Grabbing the book I was reading before he came into the room, I throw it against the wall. The pages start to break away from the impact, and the bang reverberates through the room. I'm glaring at the furious man across from me, and I hear footsteps approaching the door. Omi's voice floats into the room.

"Aya? Yohji? Please, calm down! I…_we_ don't want-…"

"Go AWAY! Just…Leave us the fuck alone!"

The sheer venom in my voice terrifies even me, and Yohji flinches. The movement brings my attention back to the blonde man, and anger flares up even more.

"If you want to lie to me, at least your dreams tell me the truth. You keep yelling HER name at night, you bastard. Get the fuck out of my sight, until you're ready to tell me the truth. I love you, but you don't love me, and I don't want you to lie to me out of some misguided sense of pity. Get OUT!"

A filthy look on his face, Yohji stands without a word. He opens his mouth, but closes it almost immediately, and throws the door open. The satisfaction I feel at getting him to listen to me is tinged with sadness about his retreat, and I'm conflicted. I want him gone, but I love him…Omi's voice makes the sound of feet stop in their tracks. He's always been able to make Yohji do what he wants…something I envy.

"Aya, you listen to this too. No, Yohji, I don't want to hear it. I told you that I was perfectly fine, even _happy_ about you two being together- as long as it didn't get in the way of Weiss. I won't have Kritiker finding out and splitting our team. Now, Manx will be here in ten minutes. She will NOT know that anything is wrong, okay? Today is apparently something incredibly important, and you WILL be in the mission room when she gets here. No excuses, either of you."

The authority in his voice surprises me, but I keep quiet about it. I know that he has a point, and I don't particularly feel like arguing with him. Yohji grunts his agreement, and he walks away. I can see Omi still looking at me through the open door; he won't leave me alone until I answer. Sighing, I nod, and he walks off with an angry look on his face.

Carefully schooling my emotions, as I've been doing for years, I repress everything that Yohji makes me feel, everything that makes me weak and vulnerable. My anger makes it easy to patch over the love I feel, masking it and allowing me to rid my mind of Yohji. I don't want a thing to do with him outside of work until he can admit that he's been lying to me for a month. I close my eyes, getting ready to meet Manx.

* * *

"…So, in short, there is an important organisation that we must have investigated for traces of Esset activity. It may take a long time, but only two of you will be required."

Manx, as professional as always, doesn't seem to notice the tension radiating throughout the room. I'm pointedly keeping myself from looking at Yohji, but I can tell that he's doing the same. I already want to make up with him, but I have to keep to my principles. I will not give in. He has to know that I'm right, and that I won't let him hurt himself with his past.

"…In order to keep difficulties to a minimum, it has been decided that the two who go will be Siberian and Balinese. You'll be leaving tomorrow."

Ah…I should probably have been listening to Manx, as I now have no clue where Yohji is going. Not that I care. It's probably to another city somewhere…if only two are needed, it shouldn't be too serious.

"That's all for today. Balinese and Siberian, you should pack for an extended stay in Europe. Bombay, I need you to stay behind. You others are dismissed."

EUROPE? Extended stay? Oh God, what have I done? Yohji's going to leave; he's going to leave me alone…

"Aya…I have to talk to you. I…We have a lot we need to go through."

Yohji's voice sends an irrational anger through me. It won't hurt if I hate him when he leaves. I can't talk to him. Turning away without answering him, I move straight to my room, locking the door. Although he could easily pick it open, he respects the action and I know that he won't try and invade my privacy. I can't be around him right now. He needs to go, I can't stop him, and I have to let him leave. It's best if we don't make up.

Minutes pass, alone in my silence. Suddenly, a banging on the door breaks through the quiet, and this time, Ken's voice addresses me.

"Hey, Aya, put aside your shit and come back to the mission room. Omi has something real important to tell us, apparently. Now."

I consider ignoring him, but I know that he'd draw me out somehow. Deciding that it's easiest to just do as he says, I wait a token moment and then rise, moving out the door. I don't see Ken anywhere; I suppose that he's gone down to the mission room already.

Walking down the stairs, I don't bother checking to see if Yohji's in the room. I don't care. I truly don't. Omi stands in the middle of the room, an incredibly serious expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak.

"Manx asked me to stay behind because she needed to ask my answer to an important question. A week ago, she asked me to take on the job…the job of my father."

Ken gasps…Yohji says nothing. I simply stare into the room, not taking too much of Omi's speech in.

"I said yes. I'm no longer a part of Weiss, no longer Bombay. Now…I'm Persia. Because of this, I will be finding two new members for the team while Yohji and Ken are in Europe. Aya, I really hate to put so much responsibility on your shoulders, but it is your job to make sure the new recruits settle in. I will be leaving here tomorrow also. Duty calls, but I will send over the new men before the week is out."

A sob catches my attention, and I see that Ken is openly crying at the news. I don't care how Yohji is taking it. Inside myself…I'm numb. Everyone is leaving, which is all I deserve. They can't stand to be around me, so I may as well not be here. I turn on my heel and leave the room, hearing Omi shout my name but not bothering to look back. I retreat to my room yet again, trying to sort out the thoughts in my head. They don't want me. But I don't care. I've been on my own before. I'll be fine.

A trail of wetness falls down my cheek. I can feel it, but I did not know that I was starting to cry. I'm weak, horridly fragile and _weak_.

Hours later, a note is pushed under my door. I easily recognise Yohji's messy handwriting.

_Aya,_

_I'm leaving early tomorrow, and I don't know when they're going to let me come back. Please, take care. Don't hurt yourself again, it's not worth it. I know you're mad at me, but please know…_

_I love you, and I'll miss you. Everything isn't okay, but we both need to stay strong until we can meet again. You mean more to me than anyone else, living or dead._

_Call me as soon as you want, whenever you want. __I love you, and that's the honest truth.  
_

_-Yohji._

Pressing the note to my chest, I let the tears flow freely. Speaking to no one, I raise my voice.

"Yohji…I love you, too. Come back to me in one piece."

A voice comes through my door. It could be real. It could be my mind finally breaking apart. Either way…it makes me infinitely happy.

"Thankyou, Aya. I will."

* * *

*******I feel like I should point this out, just in case: Self-mutilation solves nothing. Mmmkay? Nothing. Thankyou and goodnight/day.*******


	6. Track 006: Wicked Game

*******This chapter is where the story connects fully into the Gluhen storyline, in particular, "Last Mission 6: No Reason." So, be warned, I guess. I've taken a bit of dialogue directly from the episode, but not much. An idea of what goes on in this episode will help a lot.*******

* * *

**Track 6: Wicked Game**

* * *

"I love you, Kato."

Yeah, I'd hoped that she would fall in love with the character of 'Kato Yoshio'. It took me a while to perfect the act, to shape a person that identifies almost perfectly with Michelle's likes and dislikes, without seeming fake. I've done some ridiculous shit for Kritiker, but this has to be my absolute limit.

"I love you, too."

My mind fills in another word, but luckily my mouth knows enough to stay shut. I can't jeopardise this ridiculous mission by letting Shel know that every time I declare my love, every time I touch her body, I'm imagining that it's a redheaded man who bears a female name in front of me. I guess it's easier knowing that she doesn't _really_ love me, that she's talking to the flawless traveller rather than the screwed-up murderer…

When I joined Weiss, I made vows to myself. I'd always help a woman, I'd never lie to a woman, and I'd never harm a woman. These had all been broken long before now, but it still hurts to know that everything I've done, and am going to do on this mission, goes against those three promises.

"Happy six-month anniversary, babe."

My empty words are punctuated with the gift that I give her. A cheap necklace, a tacky bauble on a chain that's just what she'd want to wear. I have her file, so it's not very difficult to know what to say and what to do. Years of scamming on anything with tits has given me the skills to make her scream with minimal emotional investment on my part; I've long been able to make a woman fall in love with me using just a few choice lines and properly placed touches.

The problem lies in the fact that the woman currently throwing her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts against my chest, sickens me to the very pit of my stomach. Hell, I can only get it up for her if I close my eyes; imagination steps in to shorten her hair, flatten her curves, scar her skin and strengthen her muscles. A few years ago, I would've loved being given a mission that consisted of fucking a beautiful woman's brains out 'til she was practically unconscious, then simply copying the contents of her computer.

But a lot has changed since I was the easy-going playboy Kudoh, the bane of every father and older brother in Japan.

When Aya agreed to a proper relationship, I only made one vow; that as long as I had him, and even if I didn't, there would be no one else. I've made a lot of promises, to myself and everyone else, over the years that I've been alive. Most of them I never planned on keeping, and the others, well, if they got broken I wasn't going to tear myself apart over it. Except for the one I made Aya.

I was never planning on cheating. I didn't _want_ anyone else, because the swordsman is all I need. And that's obvious, because even as Michelle's lips meet mine and our tongues tangle, all I can think about is Aya and how I'm betraying him.

She's awfully touchy-feely today…she wants me to fuck her, and because it's some contrived 6-month date from…when we first met, I guess, she expects me to do it. But…I can't. No, that's not it…I _won't._ Kudoh Yohji, not even getting a tingle from a woman's hands running over my stomach and dipping into the waist of my jeans…this is proof that I have to get away. I don't want to be here, playing out this ridiculous pantomime; I want to be home, in Japan, where I can see and touch the man I love.

If he still wants me. He knows full well what it is that I have to do…the mission reports we send back spell it out in far too much detail, and Aya always reads the reports. It's what he's done for as long as I've known him.

Subtly brushing my hand against my pocket while Michelle has her back to me, admiring her new trinket in the mirror, I hit the button that starts a test ring from my phone. Begging her pardon, I strike up a fake conversation with an imaginary workmate, desperately hoping that the phone doesn't legitimately ring. 'Hanging up' quickly, I spin some bullshit about work emergencies and practically sprint from her house.

It's a tactic I've used many times. Although we've been 'dating', or more accurately fucking, for months now, I've never spent the entire night with Michelle. I don't trust myself to not wake up with my hands around her throat; and as much as I want this over and her dead, I won't let it be like that.

So every night, I spend my time alone in my own bed, back at the apartment that Ken and I have been renting since coming to this country. At least, that's what happens when I'm not passed out in a gutter somewhere, drinking to keep away the dreams.

Tonight, I think that it's looking like another nap in a gutter for me, unless Ken finds me and drags me home. I'm grateful for what he does, but...he doesn't understand. He doesn't know how much this is hurting, having to pretend to be in love with an evil Esset whore while my gorgeous lover, or possibly ex-lover, remains silent and in another country.

He hasn't written…he hasn't called. The only indication I have to show me that Aya's still alive are brief, formal emails from Om-…_Persia_. They're short and always spaced exactly three weeks from the last, with none of the life I remember from the chibi I used to know. The kid I once knew as Omi has changed, and it tears me apart to know that he's just as emotionless and detached as the original Persia. Yeah, it hurts…not as much as being away from Aya does, but it's still a pain that I'd rather leave behind. And so I'm going to. It won't last forever; I'll wake up tomorrow afternoon with a massive headache, and I'll still be Kudoh Yohji, my lover will still be in another country, my mission to cheat on said lover will still stand, and my heart will still be breaking apart.

But for a few hours, I can forget everything. I gave up hard drugs years ago, and though the temptation rises on days like these, I'm not going any further than a metric fuck-ton of alcohol. Aya hates illicit drug use, after all.

* * *

A swift punch to the gut brings me out of a delicious drunken stupor. Ken's lucky that I don't vomit all over his soccer jersey, he really should know better than whacking a hungover man in the gut. If I could open my eyes, he'd be getting a broken nose right about now, but…that's just not worth the effort.

Instead, I make some unintelligible grunts, and flop back against my bed. How I got here, I don't know. The last thing I remember is…a ridiculous amount of empty shot glasses and some woman who just wouldn't leave me the **fuck** alone. I s'pose that I walked home…or maybe Ken-…shit, he's still standing over me, isn't he. I can feel his shadow.

"Whaaaat, Ken-ken? Don't you have anything better to do than assault a defenceless, sleeping man?"

Yeah, not my best line ever, but I'm tired, hungover and the full gravity of my situation here in this country is crashing back to me, as it does whenever I manage to forget for just a couple of hours. I don't want to get out of bed…but if I fall asleep without self-medicating, the dreams come. Asuka…Aya…Neu…they never leave me alone. Asuka and Neu run their usual routine, taunts and torture. Aya, though…he hurts me the most. He tells me that the last words he spoke before I left, when he said that he loved me after my note, were nothing but a lie.

He says that, just as I'm lying to Michelle and fucking her without passion, he was doing the exact same thing to me. My dream-Aya taps into my deepest fears…and exploits them to tear me apart.

"Yohji…_Yohji!_ Snap out of it, this is important. Look, don't zone out on me. Sorry 'bout hitting you, but really, there's no other way to get you up when you're passed out. Believe me, I've tried. Anyway, we've gotta new message from…Persia."

Ken always hesitates before saying 'Persia'. He took Omi's leaving the hardest…the two were always close. It would almost be funny to hear his constant pausing if I didn't know where he was coming from.

"Nnggh…Alright, give me a couple of minutes. I'll be right out."

Ken leaves the room, and I throw my hand out to fumble around on top of my cupboard. I know there's some painkillers here…my fingers grasp a well-used package and I pop a couple of pills out, dry-swallowing and steeling myself for getting out of bed.

Movement sends my brain into spasms but I fight through it, finding that, quite pleasantly, I don't seem to be in imminent danger of releasing the contents of my stomach over the carpet. Glancing down slowly, I see that I'm still wearing my jeans, but no shirt; that'll have to do. I run a hand through my hair, still vaguely freaked by how short and tightly curled it is, and walk into the lounge room where the computer is set up.

* * *

A silhouette flickers into life on the screen; a distorted voice begins to speak. It's a smaller figure than we used to have, and the voice still isn't as deep…Even Persia can't hide Omi's old physique.

"Balinese, Siberian, the time has come. Your mission in Europe is coming to a close, and tonight you will run your assault on the Esset facility. Eliminate any members there, but your main target will be Ms Michelle Craig. Ensure that she is removed, and destroy the buildings. Men, deny the tomorrows of the Dark Beasts."

Huh, a familiar sign off; Omi has truly taken up the mantle of Persia, Kritiker's leader. He's given us the orders for the beginning of the end, so it's almost time to kill Michelle and return…home. Oh, God, if Aya isn't waiting…

* * *

I look to my left, where a gigantic clock tower stands, its face level with the roof of the building I'm standing on. The hands point to show that it's eleven fifty, the time that Michelle is supposed to be entering the third floor.

She's surely following the trail of dead bodies, uniformed minions that Ken and I cut down as I went for the roof and he went for the control centre. The path should bring her directly to me, where she'll see Kudoh Yohji, the _true_ me, rather than the illusion that is Kato Yoshio. But for the torture that she's put me through, the pain that I had to endure in actually _touching_ that body, she's not getting out of this easily.

I'm not a sadistic person…but maybe Aya's rubbing off on me. I've planned a mental assault to go with the physical, to bring down her concentration and focus. I've lied to this woman so much already that it's easy to keep going. I'll tell her that I love her; I'll ask her to come away with me. I won't mean any of it.

This, the conclusion to the longest mission I've ever had to take part in, is ending in revenge. Revenge for me, for Aya, for everything that we've been put through because this whore is an Esset puppet. I've made her dream of me; I've made her need me. She's fallen in love with the carefully calculated front I put up. Now, I'm going to make it abundantly clear that I never felt the same, that it was all a set-up.

For Aya.

Standing in silence, the wind whipping my coat around my legs, there's nothing to do but think. I've been acting the part with Michelle for six months…yet I feel nothing about what I'm going to do, besides a sick satisfaction that unnerves me slightly. She's just a tool for me here…it's all been a pre-written script, played out perfectly from the very moment that I 'accidentally' bumped into her, making her drop her handbag; from the moment I picked that bag up, handed it to her with a charming smile, and offered to buy her a drink to make up for the disrespect…

Eleven fifty-five. Any moment now, I'll hear footsteps coming from the metal staircase, and the door will open, showing Michelle her death. Maybe, just maybe, standing up here above the rest of the world, wind dragging through my coat, moonlight illuminating the scene, I look like an angel of death.

As if reacting to the religious reference, the breeze picks up my necklace, bringing it to settle against my chest with a small weight. I bought two near-identical crosses just days after Aya and I started our relationship…I haven't taken my own off since. I know that he wore his, as it would sometimes appear from beneath his shirt, and be revealed whenever he undressed…but does he still wear it, even now? If I could just see him…he wouldn't need to say a thing, if he was still wearing that necklace…If he's still holding onto that small gift, I'll know that he loves me. The necklace I bought him…a _proper_ gift, unlike the piece of shit I gave Michelle. And she'll never know it.

My earpiece crackles into life, Ken's hushed voice coming through the connection.

"Alright Balinese, I'm almost to the command centre. Are you in position?"

Ah, reliable Ken. If he wasn't here with me, if I'd been left to carry out this mission alone…I probably would've simply disappeared one night, bank accounts cleared and possessions left behind. I contemplated it more than once, actually. Just leaving this whole life behind, leaving Weiss…even leaving Aya. Those were dark days, about two months ago, when I felt like the pain would never plateau. Ken had to get my stomach pumped once…alcohol poisoning can be very dangerous.

It was only one day when he screamed his head off at me, telling me to shape up, that I finally came to my senses. I realised that it was no good to leave, and that abandoning Aya, even if he didn't still love me, was one of the most foolish things that I ever could have done. It was a painful decision, but in the deepest part of my soul, I knew that if there was even the slightest chance that Aya would take me back, I had to return to him. So I lived on, hoping that someone would be there to catch me if I ever did really fall.

"Yes, we're all good here. Wait, I think I hear her at the bottom of the stairs. Balinese out."

The click of heels on metal alerts me to Michelle's approach. Turning fully towards the clock, I can see that it has just hit two minutes to midnight. My brain, even in mission mode, immediately supplies a vague memory, words that fit my position…

_Two minutes to midnight…the hands that threaten doom…_

My fingers play with my watch, running over the wire release lever until I hear the footsteps near the door. As soon as the handle clicks I raise two fingers to my lips, a haunting melody whistling out that I know Michelle will recognise.

"That song…I've heard it before."

I murmur my assent. Of course you know it, my dear, I've sung the actual song for you many times. It has to be painfully obvious to her now, what's about to happen; and who is about to _make_ it happen.

"You told me that you would never lie to a woman. Was that also a lie?"

Yep, she gets it. I can tell from her tone that it's a rhetorical question, and I'm glad. Michelle understands. I can lie to her almost as easily as I can breathe, and our conversation goes on without my full attention. Her words filter through my brain and my mouth supplies the appropriate responses, yet I never have to tear many of my thoughts away from what will happen _after_ this.

I barely even look at her until she pulls out a gun.

"Let's end these games here. Let's end all of it here. The memories that linger in my mind, my femininity, and faults that you took advantage of. All of that will die within me and with you. Right here and right now!"

Games? Yes, this is all an elaborate game…and there can only be one winner. Counting down the seconds, I raise my hand again. With an instinctive showmanship, I click my fingers just as the timer on the first bomb expires. The clock tower, now facing my back, goes off like a bitch in heat. The fire spreads quickly, and soon enough the entire world looks like it could be alight, the limited view from the roof giving itself over to this fantasy. The world is on fire, and no one can save me but…Aya.

* * *

Michelle…She's…she's Z-class…I never had the slightest idea…When she stood up again, I felt like I was in a dream. She should've been dead, sent to her demise at my hands, like Asuka and Neu. But when she started to scream 'Die', so similar to how a certain man used to act…I knew how to make her lose her control.

In a last-ditch attempt to live, spitting in the face of certain death, I told her that I loved her. A lie, of course, and one I could only spin because she was acting like a cheap imitation of Aya, my dangerously beautiful Aya…It worked. She lost her focus and I was given the time to press the final trigger. When the explosion hit her, I could have sworn that she was flying away with a smile on her face; was she really that desperate to die, or did my false words give her some sort of peace? Or maybe she knows that she may just become a feature of my dreams, another woman to line up with Asuka and Neu for the nightly torture I've become accustomed to.

It's with this final thought in mind that I say my last words to the woman who I've been courting for half a year. The mission's over…my heart is broken, my arm is broken, my mind is broken, but…I'm alive, and I'm going home.

"Wait over there first. We'll be ending up in the same place sooner or later."

* * *

It's a restless plane trip back to Japan. I'm desperate to lay my eyes on Aya for the first time in too long, and yet I'm deathly afraid that he's taken my betrayal to heart and given up on me. I wouldn't blame him if he did abandon me. It's not like I ever gave him proof of my intention to stay faithful…if he doesn't want me anymore, at least I can still see him. That will never be enough, but if it's all I can get, then I will accept it.

If only he could read my thoughts, know how this broke me apart…but there's nothing I can do for that. I simply have to wait; our plane lands soon. I don't expect him to be at the airport for a tearful reunion, I wouldn't expect that even if he'd kept up a constant stream of communication. As long as I know he's alive and that I can see him eventually, an extra hour away from him will be okay. I'll survive this. I just hope that he still wants me, even after such unforgivable actions.

_Aya…I love you. Please…_


	7. Track 007: I Love You

*******Sorry for taking so long to update this story, I couldn't get my school work done, my Manifest cosplay outfit done _and_ this done, but I should be right to update sooner now (for a while). I hope that the time and POV jumps don't get too confusing, but I have no inclination to simply retell Gluhen so it skips quite a lot. Feel free to yell at me if it doesn't work.

On another note: Welcome to the second half of this fic!*******

* * *

**Track Seven: I Love You**

* * *

It all looks…so familiar.

The house that serves as the main base for Weiss, that I haven't seen for the best part of a year...It's almost like the world froze while I was away, bar the longer grass on the front lawn. It's almost like the past months were nothing but a dream, a horrible nightmare, and I've just woken up. And Aya…Aya will be asleep in my bed, without a care in the world.

It's _almost _that way.

But I really did go to another country; I really did shack up with a woman; and I really did kill her. There's nothing that will ever erase those facts.

Breathing deeply a few times, I hear Ken walking up behind me and I unlock the door with the key that floats into my vision just above my shoulder. My heart pounds…I have to find Aya. I have to see him, talk to him, just know that he's around!

I storm into the house, instinctively looking into the first door along the hall, the living room. Sprawled out on the couch is a young kid, who can't be more than fifteen or sixteen. He looks up at the racket, and I realise that he must be one of the new recruits…Sean? Sen? Oh, Sena. He sits up, looking slightly confused until he places who I am.

"Oh, hey! I'm…"

I cut him off. I really don't care about introductions; there'll be time for him later. _After_ I see the redhead who's been running through my mind for God knows how long.

"Where the fuck is Aya?"

That came out harsher than I intended. The poor kid is taken aback, and Ken, who's come to stand beside me, whacks my spine and gives Sena an apologetic look. I still don't care, though.

"…He's in his room, I think."

Sena recovers pretty nicely, I'll give him that. But he really could be more specific.

"_His_ room, his room, or _my_ room, his room?"

It's an important distinction, after all. But the kid's looking at me like I'm crazy, doesn't he know…Ah. He probably doesn't; it's not like Aya to go around broadcasting about us. Especially if he's furious with me, and…Oh, shit. Without another word, I'm off and out of the living room, hearing Ken start trying to repair whatever damage I just did to Sena's psyche. My room, the one we shared…_share_, is closer, so I check in there first.

I think, by this point, that I've said some sort of prayer to every god I can name, and a few dozen that I can't. My mind rushes into a fresh batch of pleas as I reach the closed door; which could mean that he is or isn't in there, 'cause Aya's big on privacy and keeping the door shut.

Like a nervous child, I knock gently before pushing the door open. I've never knocked on my own door. My room…it looks just the same as when I left it, and it's an amazing relief to note that Aya's books still clutter up the shelves, and that some of his clothes are in a neatly folded pile on a chair.

But the reprieve is fleeting. The next things I notice are Aya's legs, stretched out along the carpet with the door blocking my view of everything above the knees. My mind flashes back to the morning I found him in his own room, passed out on the floor, blood covering him, his sword and his surroundings. I almost start to hyperventilate, pain tearing through me.

Did he know that I was coming home today? Can he really not handle the thought of seeing me? I've hurt him too much already, I can't bear the idea that I drove him to more pain…I can't let him die, I _won't _let him…

A quietly irritated voice breaks through my crazed mind, and I very nearly fall to my knees when it registers. As it is, I have to grab the door handle tighter to stay standing.

"What is it, Sena? Have you changed your mind about staying?"

Struggling to find my voice, I feel a wetness trailing down my left cheek. A mixture of relief, happiness, guilt and regret manifests itself in the form of a tear or two, a symbol of humanity that I really don't deserve.

"…No, Aya, it's…it's me. I'm back."

There's silence, but I see those black-clad legs withdraw, and I can picture him crossing them beneath himself to gracefully rise from seated to standing. Letting go of my deathgrip on the door handle, I step around to meet him, to see him for the first time since I left for Europe.

When my eyes lock onto him, it's like someone punching me in the face. He looks…beautiful, for want of a more powerful word. Where I've been spiralling into neglect, he's been thriving, and it clearly shows. His body looks more filled out than the underweight bone-and-muscle frame he used to have…his skin has a healthier tone to it, and…I have to physically restrain myself from stroking his meticulously-dyed braid. It was an amazing length when I left, but in the last few months it's gotten ridiculously long. I didn't know that he could look any better than he already did, but as usual he's managed to surprise me.

I want to take him into my arms, hold him and tell him everything that happened and how much I love him, and never let him go. But there's something in his demeanour, the look in his eyes, which makes me swallow hard and restrain myself.

Something's wrong.

Years ago, just after Aya joined Weiss, he used to have a permanently detached expression on his face, as if he was on a completely different level to everything and everyone around him. Gradually, it began to soften; Hell, when his sister woke up, it damn near disappeared completely. It snapped back when she left, and it was only in our too-short month together that it started to fall away once more.

That expression…it's on his face now.

Standing less than two metres away from me, I can't see any emotions beyond Aya's protective, cold veil. I've…fucked up royally. It's all my fault.

"Good afternoon, Yohji."

He nods once as he speaks in clipped, formal tones, and then moves forward to dodge around me and leave the room.

I outstretch my hand, for some reason trying to catch hold of the phantom image left behind by the man I used to call my lover.

* * *

There's an abandoned building a few blocks from the Weiss house, and immediately I retreated here when I ran from Yohji. I have spent an unreasonable amount of time there over the last number of months, thinking about Yohji, thinking about my new position as official leader of Weiss, and thinking about how everything I'm involved with shrivels up and dies.

My entire life, people have told me that whenever I begin to feel like things are falling apart, I withdraw into my shell and remove myself from the outside world. They're entirely right; when my family was destroyed, I lost any interest in anything outside of my world of revenge. My teammates eventually drew me out…until Aya left. When she ran away, the shell was back.

When Yohji said he loved me, the shell broke. I thought that it was beyond repair, and was glad. Until he left me, too.

I built a new cage for myself, one which was stronger than ever before. I knew perfectly well that he had no choice but to follow orders and go to Europe to woo some slut, and yet my irrational mind taunted me into retreating from the pain.

I truly wasn't expecting him back today. No one bothered to inform me; not Rex, not Ken, not…Takatori. I don't blame Yohji for not telling me, because after all, I never contacted him. Even though he asked me to in his note. But I simply couldn't do it. My mental barrier meant that everything I tried to write came out sounding angry and antagonistic, and my hands would shake and my voice cracked if I tried to dial his phone number.

In the days after they all left, when I was alone, I came very close to shattering completely. I hadn't yet started teaching, and my solitude, which I used to revel in and seek out, felt like a crushing punishment.

I gained a few new scars in those first days, before I shut off from the world.

When Sena and Kyou arrived, they were met by what Ken and Yohji used to call 'Aya the Ice Prince'. I threw myself into training them for Weiss with an intense discipline that was harsh on them, but allowed me to remove Yohji from my mind for hours at a time. As I began to infiltrate the Academy, my distraction continued, and I allowed myself to believe that Yohji meant nothing to me. My shell was complete.

I was, once again, the cold-blooded maniac that my sister sensed and fled from.

For God's sake, when Kyou died, I felt _nothing_. The impact of his death rebounded from my protective wall and quite possibly compounded with the depression that Sena was already feeling. I think that even Rex was horrified by my reaction, or lack thereof. The kid that I had lived with and trained to near-perfection…his death had no effect on my shield of ice.

Setting eyes on Yohji was the final straw for me. I looked at him, his eyes dull and tired, face gaunt, entire body neglected and fallen from its earlier majesty…it stirred no response in my mind.

My body reacted to him; the familiar scent and the faint shadow of his beauty heated my blood. But my mind felt no love, no hatred, no relief, no anger, not even a single drop of happiness.

I'm a heartless fool; trapped behind a wall of solid ice that even the sight of the man I…I _loved_, after so long apart, couldn't break apart.

I'm terrified of myself.

Sitting in the filthy back corner of this run-down building, the insects and disgusting creatures my only company…it's clear that I belong here. I've been dead for years; I just haven't disposed of my body yet. I had a brief reprieve with the emotion that I thought I felt for Yohji; but clearly that was just some sick joke, because otherwise, how could I have closed myself off so completely?

Maybe, just _maybe_, if I sit here long enough, I'll dissolve into dust and float down to join the dirt already covering this horrid building.

* * *

It takes a few minutes before I can actually get my thoughts together enough to move. I have to find Aya; I know that he won't be in the house anymore, because I can remember easily enough that when he gets like this, he tries to go somewhere to be alone. I just…don't know _where_. I've never felt the need to go after him before.

Running back to the living room, I grab the door frame to swing around to where Ken and Sena are still talking.

"Sena! Where's Aya been going when he's being a sulky little bitch?"

Dunno why I think he'll know. Damn, he really must think I'm insane; he's got _that_ look again.

"Bloody Hell, where's Manx? She's probably been keeping tabs. Is she coming in sometime soon?"

"Uhhh…Yohji, is it? Manx was replaced months ago. We have Rex now, and I don't _know_ when she'll be here."

Manx is gone? Holy fuck, what happened while I was out of here? Oh, shit, it doesn't matter. Aya…how can I find Aya…?

"Yohji, don't be such a stupid douche! If you stopped to think for five friggin' seconds, you'd remember that WE ALL HAVE TRACERS ON OUR PHONES."

…Never thought that Ken would be my voice of reason. The computer's on and running the tracking program within moments, and I've narrowed down Aya's position. I know that address…an empty house. Just freaking typical; I should've guessed.

Ken's trying to say something, but I don't hear it as I run out the door. I'm barely even thinking as I head down the street as fast as I can, just focusing on the look in Aya's eyes and how I _will _get rid of it…if it's the last thing I do.

* * *

I find Aya curled up in the corner of the disgustingly dirty house. He's not looking at me, and he seems so vulnerable that I _have_ to kneel down beside him and slide my arms around his shoulders.

His entire body tenses, and he snarls like an abused animal.

"Get your arms off, Yohji. I don't want you to touch me."

But there's something…there's something under the venomous tone, under the unwilling muscles, that feels like its reaching to me. He's crying out to be saved…there's some part of him that still loves me. I'm going to draw it out, and destroy the barrier he's put up around himself again.

I take my arms away from him, mainly to keep them in their joints in case he truly wants to hurt me, and slide down the wall next to him. I spare a quick thought for the condition of my new jacket, but it falls far below the importance of staying near Aya. He might act cold, but I've seen this before.

If I can show him how much I care, he'll draw out of his shell. I just have to wait him out, and I will. There's no one in this world as important to me as him…not even Asuka. I won't lose another lover…I'm going to get my angel of death back.

"I'm not going to let you leave, Ayan. I'll be here for you."

He doesn't react; but I already know that I'm going to have to regain his trust. I love him, and I _know_ that he loves me. I just have to let him admit it to himself once again. He shifts slightly, and a thin beam of light glints across his necklace…the necklace that was bought for him by me.

He wouldn't wear it if he didn't care…right?

* * *

"Balinese, you'll be joining Abyssinian at the Academy. We've set things up for you to get in as the new art teacher…"

Blah, blah, blah. It's odd, and vaguely sickening, to hear the disjointed, mechanical voice over the projector and know that it's Omi. Or, well, the grown-up version of the kid I knew as Omi. And Rex isn't anywhere near as pretty as Manx or Birman; Takatori Senior had much better taste. Ken looked pretty surprised when I didn't immediately hit on her. Sena didn't notice anything, because he doesn't _know_ anything. Aya…he just looked at me with the same look of cold disdain that he did yesterday, and then avoided my eyes right up until now.

The look he's shooting me at this point could freeze vodka. If possible, it's the coldest look I've ever seen him give me. Even when he woke up in my bed, beaten up and furious with everything and everyone, he didn't look this…dangerous.

"…Remember, you two don't know each other. That's all for today. I'll be back tomorrow."

Rex finishes off the speech for...Persia, and with that, Aya's gone. Rex stares at his back, and I…well, I'm staring at his ass.

I can't help myself, okay? He makes one damned sexy teacher.

* * *

Aya never eats meals with me. He only eats with Ken and Sena if I'm not there, and if I walk into the kitchen while he's in there, he'll be gone before I can speak. I'm trying my hardest to draw him back to me, but I can't…he runs before I can even think about starting.

Sometimes, if he's distracted, I can lay a fleeting touch on him; a brush to the arm, a press of my leg against his. He monumentally freaks out when I do, his skin and his eyes colder than ice.

It just makes me more determined. I won't let him hide away from the emotions I know he has to have somewhere under that shield, and I won't allow him to live the empty life he was heading for before we got together. I've seen something there, beneath the mask he wears, a flash of a passionate, loving man…It was so close to the surface before I had to leave. I haven't seen that vulnerable core again since, but…I _will_ get him to realise that he needs to face up to his emotions.

It's clear to me that this happened because he was hurting, just like I was…I fell into alcohol, and he fell into himself. Just like we've both always done. Only this time, I'm here to drag him out into the world again. Why? Because I _love_ him.

* * *

I never thought that Yohji was this persistent. Why hasn't he just shrugged his shoulders and found someone else to chase? He's been practically stalking me for the last week…and it's only going to get worse.

He starts as the art teacher today…I'm going to be spending even more time with him.

Since I started teaching, it was almost like, for a few hours, I could pretend to be…normal. My life will never be anything like the average person's, but for those hours…

He's going to bring up things that I would rather forget. Whenever I see Yohji, the memories of what we did flood back, even if the feelings don't. The killing, the sex, the quiet moments where we were simply _together_, they all invade my memory and bring me back to the reality of my situation. I'm not really a teacher, I'm an assassin; an emotionless freak who can't even accept the fact that not everyone is out to hurt him.

That's why I've been trying to keep away from Yohji, even if he keeps trying to bring us closer together. He even has the gall to touch me, and it makes me shudder.

Not because he's the one touching me; with that I have no serious problems. It's that his touch doesn't bring back any of the feelings I was positive that I had for him. His touches, his voice, his smell, his very presence and even the mention of his name…it all just reaffirms how much of a monster I am. A thing, that was once human, worn away by the killing and the pain.

I wish he could save me…but I fear that there is no return this time. It's obvious that he's too damaged to save anybody; his nightmares are still there. More than once, I've heard him yelling out for Asuka at night, which still doesn't draw anything from me. Where it used to make me worry, ever so slightly…now it's just another sign that what we had was never real.

At least…that's what my conscious mind tells me. I don't sleep very much; but when I do, I dream…I dream vivid recreations of mind-blowing sex with Yohji, perfect and untainted. I wake up hard and panting…and blank. My body reacts; my mind refuses to.

It's sending me insane.

* * *

I've always been able to tell when Aya's pretending. He's very good at it, that's for sure, but I've always instinctively known when he's lying.

The smile and friendly greeting he gave me during our 'introduction' in the staff room yesterday were clearly faked. It was amazing to see Aya actually relating to normal people, much better than he used to during undercover work, and how much the students seem to admire him. Hell, a couple of girls in my art class were giggling about 'how totally _gorgeous_' the long-haired history teacher is.

I felt a burst of pride at that; I'm the one who's fucked him _and_ loved him, and they have absolutely no chance of ever seeing the side of Aya that I have.

It all just serves to make me more determined to drag him, kicking and screaming if I have to, from his protective little cage.

I haven't made any progress; my stomach's badly bruised from attempting to corner him in the kitchen last night, and being decked for the trouble. I'm just glad that he doesn't wear rings.

There's no end in sight here. But there's one thing that I've decided to hold myself to; if he takes off the necklace I bought him, then I'll give up. That sole lifeline, the only physical thing I ever gave him…as long as he keeps it on, I'll keep going after him.

But…I have a new plan of attack. I'm working by my theory that the necklace means he still cares somewhere deep inside. One of the things that I learnt in my years of whoring around was that when you want someone to come after you…make them jealous.

I was given another mission task just before I started at the school. It's my job to seduce Tsuji Mayumi, another suspected Esset agent who teaches at the school. Makes me wonder if they've hired any _actual_ teachers, really.

When I introduced myself to her, she tried to play the frigid bitch card. I've seen it all before; she's nothing more than a slut who pretends that she isn't. It was incredibly different to the coldness Aya shows me…I don't want to spend any time with her. But if I have to for the mission, I'll use her. Together, we'll show Aya how good life can be when you open yourself up.

Oh, God…it's disgusting. I never used to think about women like this. Sure, I had a lot of partners…but I treated them all with respect, and they all knew that I wasn't looking for long-term relationships. I never used them…but now, they all sicken me.

I can't help but blame Neu for this…all of this…Sometimes, I simply wish that I could forget her.

To erase thoughts of Neu and how she poisoned my memories of Asuka…I would give almost anything.

* * *

I know that Yohji has been ordered to find out whatever he could about Tsuji. It means nothing to me. It's for the mission; I've been told to do the same thing with Asami, to befriend her and find out whatever she knows about the inner mechanics of the Academy.

Why, then, is my body heading towards the art classroom? Yohji's playful drawl bleeds easily into the open corridor, and _her_ idiotic simpering does the same.

Before I truly realise it, I'm standing just away from the slightly open window of the not-quite-empty art room, listening to Yohji flirt his beautiful head off. Peeking inside, I see that he's painting her portrait…he sketched me once. He doesn't know that I know; he thought I was asleep at the time. Waking up to him drawing away made me feel…wanted. I stayed as still as I could until he put away his sketchpad, feigning sleep and making a big show of 'waking up'.

I've never seen the actual picture…

"Those eyes…they are similar…"

"With who?"

"With a beautiful acquaintance of mine."

Their conversation hits my ears. Suddenly…a dull thud begins somewhere inside my chest. It's faint…but it's there. I realise that he must be talking about Asuka; I've always hated hearing Yohji refer to her, even when it isn't directed at me.

"A girlfriend?"

"Not exactly…But I did have to wave a painful goodbye to her."

He speaks with so much love in his voice…it's horribly obvious that he really is still in love with 'her', with Asuka. I knew that already, but hearing him damn near say it…the finality is terrible. The dull thud strengthens, pounding out a pattern that speeds up with every passing millisecond.

My legs take me straight to the roof as my heart shatters wide open. I can almost feel the shell I painstakingly made falling apart, piercing through my skin and ripping it wide. My blood should be all over the ground, gashes cutting over my skin.

I asked for this to happen…but that thought doesn't occur to me. I fall to the ground, shaking, with thoughts of Yohji and a blue-haired woman I've never met spinning around my head.

He doesn't care about how I might feel…and it _hurts. _I still…Yohji…I still…I love him. And he doesn't care at all.

* * *

Talking to Tsuji, I have to watch my words carefully. Still, I very nearly say the wrong thing…I did once wave a painful goodbye to a woman, but that isn't the scenario I'm thinking about as I paint.

Tsuji's eyes…the tint in them reminds me of someone else. Yes, I once loved a woman…but the last painful goodbye I said was to a closed-off, cold, dangerous, purple-eyed _man_. My beautiful acquaintance, Fujimiya Aya.


	8. Track 008: Gone With The Sin

*******Once again, I'm skipping a lot over the actual story of Gluhen. If you haven't seen Gluhen or get a little confused about what I'm skirting around here, I find this site quite good: http:/ ayakreuz . tripod . com / weisssynopsis2 . htm (without all the spaces, obviously). Hopefully it all still makes sense, but I really don't want to spend a lot of time simply repeating what you've already seen. This chapter goes through some of the events of episodes 8 and 9. Only 4 more chapters after this one!*******

* * *

**Track Eight: Gone With the Sin**

* * *

He hasn't been sleeping. He hasn't been eating. In the space of one week, one fucking measly little week, Aya's lost nearly all the health he showed when I finally got back. His face is drawn and pinched; his skin is getting that unhealthy pale white tone all over again; and his dyed hair is starting to look tacky instead of naturally vibrant. And yet…he still looks so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that I can't help but tear myself to shreds over the possibility that I'm _enjoying_ his pain.

He's still refusing to be around me, outside of work. He'll put up a perfectly civil front at school; Hell, we even had a real conversation while walking through the halls of school the other day. But when we're outside of teaching or missions, he won't even make eye contact. Then again, how could he make eye contact when he's out the door seconds after I enter the same room?

He's falling apart, and it's all because of me and my _stupid_ ideas.

This is why I had to help him, even though he'll be ready to murder me when he finally wakes up. I know for a fact that he doesn't sleep much; I can hear him pacing at night whenever I wake up from yet another nightmare. All I want to do is go over to his room and hold him until he finally falls asleep…but I know that he would lash out if I tried. That only left me with one option; tonight, I paid Ken a ridiculous amount of money to slip some goddamned _powerful_ sleeping pills into Aya's food. I didn't know if it'd even work or not, but I had to try something to let him get some rest. I couldn't put them in there myself because he won't be _around_ me, let alone accept food from me. So, I paid Ken and promised him that if Aya found out, I would take all the blame.

When I quickly snuck a look in through his door fifteen minutes ago, I was fully prepared for him to be awake and ready to beat me to a bloody pulp. It truly shocked me when he was fast asleep, fully dressed, the deepening lines in his face softening with relaxation. I've had these particular pills; the chances of dreaming while on 'em are incredibly low, so he doesn't have to worry about the nightmares coming.

I'm simply kneeling at the side of his bed, running my fingers through his hair. He won't wake up, and he probably won't even know that I've been here. It hurts that the only way I can touch him is by secretly drugging him. Why did I have to go to Europe? Why did I have to do such _stupid_ things? Why did I have to use…

…Tsuji.

I knew that it seemed too easy. I had to run surveillance on a woman; why not use the opportunity to wake Aya up to his feelings? Oh, and it worked, too. I wasn't sure when he simply let me go that night in the mission room; I didn't think that it would be Ken who would react. But then again…Aya never really has allowed anyone but me to see his true feelings. I think.

But then, when he slammed me up against the wall on the roof of the school…my heart hasn't pounded like that for as long as I can remember. The feel of his hand pressing into me had me hard in seconds, so I had to push him off before I tackled him to the ground in lust. Yeah, I said some harsh stuff, but there isn't any other way to get through to Aya; I knew that I had to push. It was working, just as I'd hoped.

And then I remembered everything that had happened that morning, and I had to leave. I fucked Tsuji. Why did I fuck her? That was never part of my plan…I don't even remember how it happened. All I recall is being inside her, and then coming to the realisation that I had my hands around her neck, just like I'd done a year ago to some anonymous woman.

I'd thought that I was over that stage; clearly, I was wrong.

It really messed me up, knowing how much of a danger I am to everyone. Even to a woman who I didn't care about at all; what if I did the same to someone I actually loved? Like…Aya…but then again, he'd have to accept me first. And now, it doesn't look like that will ever happen.

If he really does leave Weiss, the way that Ken told me he's thinking about…I don't think that I would live out the week, I really don't. It's hard enough having him ignore me; if he wasn't around at all, I think that I truly would stop existing.

Which is why…why I listened to Tsuji.

I _know _that she's evil; she's nothing but a lying bitch, an Esset whore like Shell was. But she's different from Shell. What she offered me…if Aya ever leaves, _truly_ leaves Weiss, then my choices are to die completely, or to kill off the Yohji who has only ever loved and lost.

The 'Forget' wine that she served me seemed like a novelty joke, a product to sell to those with regrets like mine. Then she took me to that laboratory…

I don't want to join Esset. But she said that I can erase everything…the pain, the suffering, everything horrible that I've ever done to the people I love. If Aya leaves me behind, then I won't have any choice but to leave him as well. Otherwise, it'll destroy me completely. I don't deserve the release of death.

My first thought was that she was lying. Trying to get me to betray Weiss so that she could kill us, or something clichéd along those lines. She seemed so sincere, though…

I drove around for hours that night. I weighed up everything that I've ever done, and whether it was worth remembering.

My conclusion? The only thing that keeps me sane these days is the brief glimpses I get of Aya. If he leaves…I _will_ turn to Tsuji. If she can do what she says…

I can't help the tears that are sliding down my face. My hand moves down to Aya's face…he's so cold and pale…he looks like he's dying. Why did I tear down his shields? That just left him open to…I didn't know that he'd gotten so attached to the teacher he was following. I had to ask Ken to fill me in when he came home, eyes rimmed in red like he'd been crying non-stop for a long time.

When that woman was killed by Tsuji, it completely destroyed Aya's spirit. He can still be like ice when he's in Abyssinian mode, but all that's left of Aya is a quivering wreck of a man, one who would have been fine if I hadn't acted on my selfish desires.

He has to look out for himself, because he won't come to me or anyone else…I want to help him, I really do. But as usual, I'm completely useless.

All I wanted was to let him open up to care and love…but I took it too far, and all I did was hurt him.

That's why the idea of forgetting all the terrible things I've done is so damned attractive. I know that I should live with my sins, but they only seem to hurt the people around me. Maybe if I forget them, my terrible past won't hurt anyone else. It's a long shot…but if I can stop anything from hurting Aya ever again, I'll do it.

Tsuji said that I can forget what I want to; does that mean that I could leave Neu and Asuka behind, yet still remember everything that I've ever felt for Aya?

Can I?

…His face just moved under my hand. I don't want to leave him, but I have to, just in case the pills haven't worked right and he wakes up. Pushing things here might just turn him away from me completely.

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away from his face. I want to see his eyes, but that's just not possible right now. I want to see them sparkle with the love that they used to do months ago…I want to see him look at me with anything other than indifference or anger.

Those eyes…On the portrait that I painted of Tsuji…I wouldn't let her see it. That was because her eyes…they were the wrong colour. They are much more purple than hers are, because without even realising it, I painted Aya's gorgeous eyes instead of hers. The despair I've seen in them also came through…they didn't look a thing like Tsuji's.

When I tried to destroy the painting, I couldn't do it. Those eyes just kept looking out at me, haunting me. I've caused that look of pure suffering in them, and I'll just keep doing it with my infinite idiocy.

Leaving Aya's room, I see Ken standing in the hallway. I know that he'll have a look of pity on his face; I don't want to see it. I have no clue where the kid is tonight, and I don't care. He worships Aya, but he doesn't _understand_ him. Only I can do that.

Without acknowledging that I've seen him, I pass by Ken and retreat to my own room.

I think that I can still feel Aya underneath my hand, his cold skin seeming like heaven after spending so long without touching him. I miss him; I truly do. But now that he's broken, I don't know if I'll ever be able to show him how much I still love him.

A fresh batch of tears runs down my face as I crawl into bed. Just like Aya, I'm still fully dressed; there's no point in comfort.

I don't deserve it.

* * *

The room spins around me as I wake up. Something's not quite right…I don't know what it is, but something feels wrong about this. Why am I sleeping in my clothes? I remember eating dinner with Ken and Sena, and then…

God, my head hurts.

I reach out beside me, searching for a clock to tell me the time. Instead, my hand lands on something rectangular…a book.

No; a day planner. Asami's planner. The one I bought her.

It all comes back to me; she's dead, and it's all because I was running about with Kudoh instead of assisting her.

With an exhalation of breath I drop back into my bed, ignoring the pounding sensation in my brain. None of this is Yohji's fault. I've never been in the habit of blaming others for my own mistakes, and I'm not about to begin. Especially not when the other person is Yohji.

He's been looking so haggard lately, like the weight of the world is crushing him.

A realisation hits me, and I can't help but dig my palms into my eyes. Yohji is always playing the martyr…he's probably blaming himself for everything that has happened. I haven't spoken to him since he was repeating the brainwashing nonsense that the Esset woman instilled in him; he'll never be able to lose his memories. I want him to live; I do love him the way that he is now, with the flaws and regrets that he holds. It's what makes him the person he is today.

But he doesn't know how I feel, and now he's probably going to do something stupid; I don't want him to end up with a collection of scars like mine.

I have to find him. I have to tell him everything; that it's not his fault, that I love him more than anything. Even if he doesn't feel the same because some Esset bitches have been fucking with his beautiful mind. Woah…my head spins once more, but I have to ignore it and get to Yohji's room.

Slipping out of bed, I only make it a few steps before I have to lean heavily against the wall from nausea. My mind is focused on one objective, making me concentrate like it's a mission. I don't care about the state of my own mind; I have to put Yohji's mind at ease.

He will hear me out, whether he likes it or not. Something still feels off about this whole situation…but it's Yohji that I care about.

…He'll take this uneasy feeling away.

* * *

My eyes are closed, but sleep isn't coming. I'm trying to force the issue like I've done so many times before, but even when I'm awake the women in my life won't leave me alone. I can hear Asuka telling me to stay with Tsuji, and leave Aya alone. I don't _want_ to do that, Asuka! Why are you trying to make me…

…I would swear that my door just opened quietly. Wow, I must really be going insane this time; no one would be dumb enough to come and see me right now. Ken wouldn't want to be torn a new one, and Sena tries to avoid talking to me. Maybe I didn't hear anything at all.

"Yohji?"

Goddammit, brain, please stop torturing me. I know that Aya isn't really standing at my door. I'm even going to open my eyes and prove to myself that he isn't there. Maybe then I can get some sleep. Tilting my head to the side, I check out the situation.

"Yohji…please, hear me out…"

That's not possible…is it? Even though he was moving a little, he shouldn't have woken up this soon. Clearly, the stress is getting to me…

The illusion walks towards me. He looks awkward; like he's not sure why he's in my room.

"…Yotan? Please, say something…anything…"

"You're not real. I'm not talking to my hallucinations anymore. It gets me into trouble."

Huh, he looks confused. Probably just a physical manifestation of my own confusion or some psychological bullshit. He's not moving any closer…

"I'm real, Yohji…What's _happened_ to…to you?'

He's…real? But then again, don't the fakes always try and say that they're the real one?

I start when cold hands press against my cheeks. I didn't even notice him come that close. I bet that this is all just a dream, actually.

"Oh, God…I'm sorry, Yohji, I'm so…"

His words trail off, choked by sobs. I don't care if he isn't real…I can't bear to see Aya, even just an illusion that looks like him, in pain. He's still standing by my bed, but his hands have gone back to his own face to cover those amazing eyes.

I don't care about sleep anymore as I stand up, wrapping his thin, shaking figure in my arms. I'm shocked to the core when I bury my face in his long, soft hair.

He smells so familiar, so similar to the way he used to when we shared each other's beds that it makes me shiver. Is it possible, do I dare _hope_, that this isn't some sort of sick joke?

What if Aya really is crying his eyes out in my room?

My arms tighten involuntarily, but he doesn't seem to care. Why is he letting me touch him after so long apart? So many questions…

"I…Yo-…Oh, God…I'm a wreck…it's not your fault, none of this is…I…I…love…I _love_ you, Yohji…"

It's hard for me to make out his words between sobs. I can't have heard him right, though. I simply keep rubbing one hand across his back in a soothing pattern and using the other to stroke his hair. He clears his throat, the sobs disappearing for a moment. He pulls back slightly to look directly into my eyes, and what I see there makes my legs feel like they're about to give out.

"Did you hear me, Yohji? I said that I fucking love you, even if you don't feel the same."

After his little outburst the tears return, and he buries his face in my shoulder. I don't care that he's soaking through my shirt; I don't care that it's getting hard to stand on these wobbling legs.

Aya still loves me…he still LOVES ME! And I love him, more than anything in this world…

"Oh, Aya…it's okay, it's all perfect…I'm here for you, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone before…Please, let me help you through everything…"

The words are out before I can stop them, as are a new round of tears. Just like he's wetting my shirt, I'm making his beautiful long hair damp. I can't believe that he's actually in my arms, truly talking to me…This feels like reaching a state of pure bliss, one that I've never felt before.

"Can I…Will you let me…stay here…tonight? I understand if you don't want me to…"

He sounds so hesitant that it breaks my heart. How can he possibly believe that I might not want him here? All I've wanted for most of the past year is this…to have Aya in my arms once more.

"Please, oh fuck _please_, stay with me. I beg you, get into my bed…I'll hold you while you sleep if you want me to, I'll do _anything_ for you, Aya."

He sniffles, and it's so undeniably cute that I begin slowly descending to sit on the bed, bringing his shivering form with me. He seems like he needs the warmth of the bed, and I just want to wrap him in blankets until the heat and colour return to him, because his pale, cold beauty is painful for me to see, knowing that it's my fault.

It won't do much, but giving him back some of his health might help me begin to make up for what I've done.

He feels so good in my arms, and yet sex is the last thing on my mind. Tonight is about comfort, about allowing him to feel safe and loved and needed.

"Let it out, Aya; can I put you into my bed?"

He nods, still with his face pressed against my chest. I swing us both around gently, letting our bodies sink into my soft mattress. It's been so long since he's been here…I pray to God that this isn't a dream.

Pulling the warm covers over us, I wrap Aya in my arms with him curled into a ball facing me, both of us on our sides. His shaking is beginning to slow, but the tears are still falling and I can hear the odd sob.

I wonder how long it's been since someone else saw him cry, since he could truly confide in another person.

I wish that I could've been here for him earlier, but there's nothing that I can do about that now.

Right now, all I can do is allow him to express all that built-up pain, to grieve; I'll be the perfect partner, the one that I should have been too long ago.

Slowly, he drifts off to sleep in my arms. I stay awake for a long time after that, making sure that he isn't haunted by memories in his slumber.

Eventually, revelling in the feel of the familiar body in my arms, I give in to sleep as well.

I love Aya; more than words alone can say. From now on, he will always know it. I won't ever take him for granted again.


	9. Track 009: Razorblade Kiss

**Track Nine: Razorblade Kiss**

* * *

I can't believe that I woke up in his bed.

I'm so weak…I let him too close, and then I cracked wide open. I _know_ that he's still in love with Asuka, no matter how much he says that he loves me…so why did it hurt so much to hear him talk about her? That day when I saw him in the art room…I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.

I should have more discipline than that; as a leader, I'm a failure. And what did that failure achieve? It got Asami killed.

The reason why that broke me…It was the way she spoke to me, with so much idealism and naïveté…it reminded me of Aya. The real Aya. I couldn't save my sister, and now she's gone, most probably forever. She wants nothing to do with me ever again. I couldn't save a woman who reminded me of my sister…and when I watched her die, it was as if I was seeing my sister die.

Die at the hands of the evil bitch who is trying to take Yohji from me.

All of this is a weakness, and ever since Sena asked me about weakness…I can't get my own weaknesses out of my mind. I'm not a good leader, and people die because of me and my idiotic mistakes. I cannot continue on as the leader of Weiss; I cannot let another innocent die because of me.

That's why…after this final mission, I'm leaving Weiss behind. This isn't just Tsukiyono Omi's final mission; it is mine as well.

Somewhere, deep inside, there is an area of my heart that I thought I'd lost when Yohji left for Europe. Now, I'm discovering that it was merely hiding; at the thought of leaving him behind, I ache. Is that why…I ended up in his bed last night?

This morning, when I woke up with his arm around me, I didn't want to run. There was a certain…finality about the whole situation.

I'm leaving this life behind, as is he. But where I will bear my sins, to remind myself that I don't deserve true happiness, he will erase everything and attempt to start again. I know that he will never be happy without memories…but I don't know if he can ever be at ease with his past.

Yohji is a creature who thrives on the adulation of others…I think that he believes that he can't obtain that while he holds onto the sins of the past.

Life doesn't work like that. At least, not for us. We are Weiss, and forgetting that fact will not remove it from our pasts.

I don't want him to forget…I don't want him to forget me, because I will never forget him. But if this is the way that it must be, then I have no choice but to accept his foolish decisions, and hope that we may meet again in Hell.

This morning, I didn't run. Instead, I simply kept still in his hold, allowing his body to warm mine and the sad familiarity of the situation to sooth me. When he was near, I could forget my mistakes and my flaws. Everything melted away, Asami, Tsuji, even…Aya.

And when he awoke, treating me with caution, like a volatile animal that could become violent with a single wrong move…I melted. I let him close again…

As he let go of his hold on my body, I got up from the bed and made to leave the room. But my legs refused to carry me out of the door and out of his life. My mouth opened without the consent of my brain, and I entered one of the longest conversations I have had in a very long time.

"Yohji…did you mean what you said last night? Or was I simply a pity case, a sad sight that you wanted to comfort?"

"I…Of course I meant it! The real question is, did you mean what _you_ said?"

His voice started off shaky, but a sudden determination entered his tone and for a moment, he wasn't the shell of a man that he has become lately, the weakling who wants to forget. He was _my_ Yohji, the strong and confident beauty who wore each of his flaws like a tattoo on his skin.

"When have you known me to speak words I don't mean? You should have no reason to doubt me, Yohji, even if last night _was_ spurred on by the effects of the strong pills you slipped into my food."

He looks shocked; he should know better than to think that I didn't notice tainted food. I ate it nonetheless; it was proof that he…that he cared, enough to worry about my health. If I couldn't accept his words, then at least I could accept his actions.

"I'm so, so sorry about that, but I saw no other option. You haven't been faring well lately…and it's my fault, I know it is. I should never have let you get involved with someone as ruined as me…I'll be gone from your life soon, so don't worry about me ruining your life any longer."

As hard as I was trying to keep my emotions in check, like the ruthless Aya of old, his words tore into me, and I snapped. To hear him talk about himself like he was the dirtied one…it was too painful to hear.

"Are you that much of an idiot, Kudoh? How can you sit there and say with a straight face that you're ruining my life? Everything that I've done is my own fault, and I'll bear that cross alone. You aren't ruining my life, because I fucking _love_ you, even if you are a stupid fool who thinks that life without a past is better than a life lived with lessons learnt."

And then, as my body continued its rebellion against my mind, I took three long strides until I stood before Yohji, who was still lying in his bed. Reaching out with both hands, I gripped his shoulders and pulled him from the mattress, moving him towards me until our lips collided in a vicious kiss, our first in a ridiculously long time.

Naturally, he was shocked at first; I was shocked, too. My actions betrayed the cold exterior that I had been trying so hard for so long to present; he knew in that moment that my words were the truth, and that he was my weakness, despite how harshly I had treated him since his return to Japan.

His kiss was so sweet, after so many months apart, and yet there was something else there. Words weren't spoken, but I knew and I suspect that he also realised; it was to be our last time that we would join together as one. We're to bring down Epitaph in a matter of hours; and so this morning was the beginning of the last day of these lives.

In our kiss was death; the death of Abyssinian, and the death of Kudoh Yohji. Tonight will be the final call for those two, and this morning was the performance of a lifetime.

He pulled me back into the bed, returning my kiss with a passion that seemed to have only grown in our time apart. I put up no resistance; there was no point, as nothing else mattered. I gave in to him, and he gave in to me; because there will be nothing for us after tonight. If we don't lose our lives during this mission, then there is a high chance that we will never meet again.

If we don't eliminate Tsuji and Esset, then Yohji will leave me and this whole life behind; and I will disappear into the night whether we succeed or fail in our mission. That much is certain.

I would take Yohji with me…but I know that he won't want to come with me. If he doesn't erase his memories, then he won't want to be around me, with someone who will remind him of his time in Weiss. It hurts, but it's the truth; so for one last time, just hours ago, I let Kudoh Yohji make love to me.

It was a frenzied affair; he had me pressed against the bed, and as he kissed me I scrabbled at his sleep pants and nearly tore them from his body. Naked, he rolled me over; still connected at the lips with tongues sliding against each other, he pushed my own pants out of the way, skin joining with skin in a familiar dance.

There was little time put into foreplay; as our naked groins came into contact, I fully hardened and felt him do the same. Our bodies responded to each other as if we'd never parted, unconcerned with the turmoil of our minds. There was no need to regain the rhythm we once knew so well, as we explored each other with hands that needed to feel every dip and scar on the other's skin.

Even as he reached across for the tube that I knew would be in its usual place in his bedside table, we kept kissing and touching like we couldn't survive if we parted.

For those minutes, we physically _couldn't_ part; and as he entered me, first with his fingers and then with his erection, there was no Yohji and no Aya…there was just 'us', moving together in carnal bliss. He stroked inside my body, sending me to heaven with the pleasure that he stoked in me.

All too soon, I felt his body stiffen; looking directly into my eyes, he began to spurt inside me, his pleasured groan causing my own in response, and pushing me over into the abyss of orgasm. I spilt my seed between our bodies, and my legs tightened around his bare back before falling to lay flat against the mattress.

I barely felt him slipping out of me, as focused as I was on his face. A thin sheen of sweat covered his features and he collapsed onto my body, where I let him lay. It was our last moments together, and the feel of his breath against my sated skin signalled that the end was drawing close.

I realised all too late that I was beginning to cry; something that I should have been ashamed of, but something that, a long time ago, Yohji told me I should let out more often. Twice in twenty-four hours, I cried on Yohji's shoulder, and my weakness was confirmed.

He pressed his lips into my hair, the braid that I grew for him after he revealed one day that he was fond of long hair. I barely heard the words that he spoke, and I almost wish that I didn't.

"Are you…are you really leaving Weiss, Aya?"

"…Yes."

Tension flooded his body, and he pushed me away as if I was afflicted with some terrible disease. Before I realised what was happening, he was standing by the door.

"You…you didn't mean _any_ of this, did you? I can't believe that after you've finally come back to me, you're still running away. I only wanted to forget because I couldn't have you; and now you've come to my bed just to show me what I'm going to _miss? _You're a fucking _prick_, Fujimiya."

The pain in his voice is almost tangible, and he flees the room, slamming the door behind him. I have no tears left to cry; instead, I wish for the world to simply swallow me up. I didn't get to finish my sentence, and now Yohji is going to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Speaking to an empty room, my broken voice let out words that Yohji never got to hear.

"Please…come with me, Yohji."

Now, standing in my room, still alone, I can't allow myself to feel regret. One more mission…and then, it's all over. I need to cut Yohji from my heart…and so, in a symbolic gesture that no one will appreciate, I raise my katana to my neck and cut through the thick wad of hair there…hair that I grew for Yohji.

My love for him brings nothing but pain; and now that we have had our final time together, we will move into our final mission and then go our separate ways.

Even if I wish that he would stay with me forever.

* * *

He's still going to leave. I thought that if he knew how much I love him, he would stay. But just like everyone else I have ever loved, I'm going to lose him.

Clearly, he can easily forget me…but I'll never be able to remove him from my mind on my own. If the only way to get rid of this pain I feel is by turning to Tsuji…I'll do it.

I can't keep on loving a man like Aya, especially if he's about to abandon me. What we had today was little more than break-up sex…as much as I wish that it meant something more, he was always planning on leaving me behind.

He doesn't want me around…but I don't blame him. I'm a walking bag of misery, and all I do is fuck up people's lives. I get them killed; he's smart to save his own hide.

This isn't about Asuka, or Neu, or any women. This is about me and Aya…but it's obvious that he would rather not be put in even the same _sentence_ as me. I didn't realise that he would fuck me out of pity; and yet he did, following it up by lying to me.

In a little over an hour, we go to fight Epitaph.

I can't let them kill Tsuji…I won't let Aya remove my one chance to forget the fact that he's abandoning me.

He can screw around with the way that I feel, lying through his teeth about 'love'; but I'll do whatever I must to leave behind how much he has hurt me. Even if I have to fight him.

I love Aya so much that it makes me feel sick…and even though I thought that I had finally gotten him to realise his own feelings, it was made painfully clear this morning that he never truly cared.

I don't believe that he even knows what love is; even when we were together before I left, he never seemed to trust me.

And now…we've had our last roll together. It comes to an end, tonight; I will either lose my life, or Kudoh Yohji will lose all of his memories of lovers who do nothing but leave because he hurts them.

Aya won't change his mind to leave Weiss and me; so there is no middle ground. It's all or nothing, when we go to fight Epitaph.

I love you, Aya…and although I'd like to believe your words when you say that you love me too, I simply can't.

If you truly loved me, you wouldn't leave me to die like you're going to. I can't live with this much pain…and yet, I'm too much of a coward to take my own life.

I'm going to let Tsuji alter my memories…but I wish that you could know that Kudoh Yohji will always love you, Aya, from the bottom of his murderous heart.

* * *

His wire around my neck was the cold bite of death that had been a long time in coming. If anyone was to kill me…I wanted it to be Yohji.

I wasn't surprised when he threw the thin line around my neck…he's so desperate to forget everything that he was willing to betray Weiss, to betray me. I would've let him kill me, too; I don't want to ever see the shell of Yohji's body, inhabited by a new creature without a past…and so, when he drew his wire, I may have been a little slower than usual, a bit more sluggish in my offence.

A katana is far superior to garrotte wire in a face-to-face encounter…but I didn't want to kill Yohji. I don't want to live in a world where he doesn't exist.

We danced around each other, him growing more and more wild with every passing second. The tears that had been building in his eyes began to fall, and he stopped stock-still across from me.

Then…he launched towards me, and I jumped to meet him. I didn't want to injure him, but the only other course of action was to allow him to hurt me…and so, I made up my mind and lowered my weapon while hurtling towards him.

With his wire drawn out, taut between his long fingers, the fingers that had slipped across my entire body hours before…he aimed for my neck, and I allowed him the opportunity to unleash his final blow.

He was moments from snapping my neck when the building began to collapse on itself. A piece of rubble fell from the ceiling, connecting with his shoulder and sending him to the floor. I landed on the ground at the end of my leap, only to feel everything go black.

Now, I'm ignoring the throbbing pain on the side of my head, having woken up from a brief unconscious state caused by falling rubble. I can't see Yohji…Oh, God, I hope he's alright. He's about to do something stupid…and I have a mission to complete.

No…fuck the mission, quite frankly. I have to find Yohji, and stop him from making the biggest, most permanent mistake of his life.

I won't allow him to forget. That has to be why I'm still alive…or maybe it was just superb timing on behalf of the Crashers, who had to have been the ones who set the explosion as a warning. Either way…I have to stop Yohji and kill that Esset bitch.

* * *

Aya…Asuka…the two people who mean the most to me out of anyone or anything I've ever known…They've caused me so much pain, but…they've also brought out the good in a heart that was once good for little more than lying and cheating my way through life.

Seeing Aya facing off against Tsuji…his words were so passionate, as if he firmly believed in everything he was saying. Would I really be better off dead than an amnesiac? Is it possible that…that my memories are all I have, and without them I'll be nothing? Oh, Aya…why are you so determined to make me second-guess myself if you're still planning on leaving me?

And Asuka...Did you truly mean it when you said that I _saved_ you? It's not possible; without me, you'd still be alive. I don't want to remember the fact that I ruined your life…

It's all so fucking confusing! I was so determined, and it was perfectly clear; I would forget, and eventually everyone that I've hurt would forget about me, too. Life would improve for everyone, and Kudoh Yohji would simply be relegated to the dusty annals of history as a man who died with his girlfriend in a dingy back alley, victims of a random violent mugging.

And yet…now, there is part of my mind that is beginning to rebel. Aya thinks that I'm making a terrible mistake…Asuka said that she would live on if _I_ lived on…I said that I don't want to betray anyone anymore, as I stood with my wire around Aya's neck in a horrible moment full of terrible decisions…Can I betray the two people who mean more to me than anything?

I don't want to disappoint Aya…maybe, just _maybe_, if I fight for him, he'll stay with me. We could leave Weiss…together.

In the background, from far below, I hear Tsuji's familiar voice calling Aya a stupid man…my anger flares. _Nobody_ insults my Aya; any thought of her offer flees as I realise that Aya could be in trouble. This time, there is no telekinetic boy to save him; it's up to me.

Fuck the future; fuck the past; Aya is my concern right now, and he's about to enter a battle with a genetically modified _freak_.

Running to the walkway, I vault over the railing and throw out my wire to catch Tsuji's fist as she goes to strike the only man I've ever loved. The thought occurs that I might die here…

But if I have to die in order to keep Aya safe, I'll do it.

And if I live…then it will be my duty to follow that angry, irrational, cold, hidden, dangerous and god damn fucking amazing man to the ends of the Earth if I must.

It's a surprise that my voice doesn't break as I send Aya to finish the mission.

"Leave her to me…I'm going to live."

I think that I catch the tiniest trace of a smile as he registers the meaning of my words…my new-found resolve is cemented with his parting comment.

"Yohji…don't die."

* * *

He's still in that burning wreck of a building…somewhere. He _has_ to be…

We lost one team member tonight…I won't let it become two. Sena is dead, but I have no time for grief or regret…I have to save Yohji. During this, our final battle, he finally awoke from the painful nightmare that had overtaken his body for God knows how long. His resolve when he fought Tsuji twice…the first with his wire, and the second with my sword…the Kudoh Yohji that I knew long before Europe, before Neu, was alive and well in mind, if not in body.

I shouldn't have left him to fight in such a terrible condition…but it had to be him to destroy Tsuji, to show himself that he could live on without Esset's memory-altering technology. I saw him destroy her data…my heart felt like it was going to explode with pride at his clarity of mind in that moment.

Nothing has drawn emotion like that from me in a very long time.

Somewhere below this hill where I'm standing, overlooking the building that _used_ to house outrageous amounts of knowledge and technology, Yohji is alive. The others have left with Crashers, to whom I owe so much; now, it's just me and Yohji.

I don't know what changed his mind…but because of it, I now have to find him and _make_ him come away with me. We'll leave this life behind…there's nothing here for us anymore, and now that he has made up his own mind to live on…I want to be by his side as we attempt to put out lives back into some semblance of order.

Picking my way back down the hill, my only focus is Yohji and finding him before it's too late.

I thought that this morning we spent together was the last we would ever share…could it really have been our new beginning?


	10. Track 010: Resurrection

*******I'm back to completely messing with canon again, and the italicised section is from Yohji's point of view. I should also point out that I have very little medical knowledge, apart from ten minutes of scouring the internet. That's why everything is probably incorrect!*******

* * *

**Track Ten: Resurrection**

* * *

"Excuse me, ah…Mr Fujimiya, I presume?"

I make a fairly noncommittal noise in reply, and the doctor looks somewhat taken aback. I keep forgetting that the staff at this hospital aren't used to me; the last time I was in one of these wretched places, the employees all knew that I wasn't the greatest conversationalist.

I hope that I'm not here long enough for that to happen a second time.

"Ahem…Well, it's about the patient in room 425…the John Doe? His condition is finally stable, but…"

There's always a 'but' with these people. I refused to give them Yohji's name, because otherwise it would be too easy for Kritiker to track us...it's been a week since I pulled Yohji from the burning wreckage of the Esset facility; he hasn't opened his eyes yet. I know exactly what the doctor is about to say.

"…he isn't showing any signs of consciousness, and we don't know how long it will take for him to reawaken. It could be anything from a few days to, well…we have to be prepared for the possibility that he might not regain consciousness."

_We_ have to, do we? This man doesn't care whether or not Yohji wakes up; if he means that _I_ should be ready for that possibility, he should just come out and say it like that. Then again…they said the same thing about Aya.

Hope isn't an emotion that I am particularly accustomed to; I shouldn't be encouraging it now. It will only lead to disappointment.

"Spare me the lecture. I've been through this before."

The doctor gives me an odd look, one that could either mean that he's disgusted by my attitude, or surprised by my _apparent_ calm.

I'm not calm in the least; I swore never to let anyone else get harmed because of my pathetic leadership. And what did I do just hours after that? I sent Yohji into a fight that he may never recover from. The man I love is lying motionless in a disgustingly sterile hospital room; it's a pathetic reprisal of that same situation from years ago.

"Oh, very well, then. Now, as to the extent of his injuries…We put the broken leg in a cast, although it almost needed pins. The break was extremely severe, but I think that we got it set before any permanent damage could be done. The various cuts on his body have been stitched, and scarring should be kept to a minimum, although he will probably have one or two major marks for the rest of his life. The head trauma is the one which we are most worried about. How did you say that he happened to obtain that injury, again?"

"I didn't."

It's true. So far, I've avoided all questions about how this occurred and what it is that we do. This isn't a Kritiker hospital, and they're getting suspicious…If I must, I will be fully prepared to contact Takatori and give him this mess to sort out. But I refuse to allow that to happen until I have gotten Yohji out of here; I won't let them have him again.

"Yes, well…I suppose that it's your business, if that's the way you are so inclined. Until he wakes up, it's impossible to tell as to the extent of his mental injuries. There might be no severe effects from the blow he took; yet that seems highly unlikely. The positioning of the injury, as well as the amount of his head that it damaged leads us to believe that- if he wakes up at all- he might have a degree of memory loss, coordination problems, speech difficulties or even a complete change in personality and temperament."

"Memory loss?"

Maybe you'll get what you once wanted after all, Yohji. When you said that you were Weiss, I was so happy at the thought that you would stay with me…maybe the gods have other plans for us. Bastards.

I won't lose the only person I have loved since my sister.

"Yes, it has been established that injuries to this extent often cause some degree of amnesia. There's no way to tell if it could be permanent or temporary, or whether it would be anterograde or retrograde, and also the types of memories that could be lost. Until he wakes up, we just can't know."

Goddammit, I wish that they would simply give me a straight answer for once. All these variables…it's simply too much. And that's if he wakes up at all…

"You can visit with him now."

Turning on my heel, I walk out of the waiting room towards Yohji's room. The doctor sounds like he's about to say something else, but I really don't care. I just want to see him…even if it is difficult seeing him so _empty_.

But as long as he's breathing…I can handle this.

Opening the door to his room, I'm glad that he has a single. The cost of this treatment is going to be a ridiculous amount, and it's coming out of my own pocket…and every cent is worth it. He deserves peace.

Now that I've broken from Kritiker, there is no steady income; depending on how long Yohji has to stay here, I may just have to take up working again. I've done construction before, to pay for Aya's treatment…I can do it once more, if I must.

Luckily, I have enough saved up to support both him and myself for a while, not that I am my main priority right now. I'm sure that I look dishevelled and atrocious, having spent the last week here, but that's not important. What matters is being here for Yohji, no matter what.

I left Aya while she was vulnerable and _that_ ended just wonderfully, didn't it. I won't let anyone else hurt Yohji; even if it is my fault that he's like this right now.

He looks so…peaceful. Like he's simply sleeping; which in a manner of speaking, I suppose he is. His hair is growing out, and the darker roots are showing from the awful dye-job. There are bandages all over the skin that I can see, and his splinted leg is raised slightly; and yet, the sight of him is the most beautiful thing that I can remember seeing in a very long time.

I truly didn't think that I was going to find him before the emergency services team did. I had to stay out of their sight; too many questions, otherwise. I'd almost given up the thought of finding him alive when I saw a horrible amount of blood on the ground…a slight trail led to a motionless shape, and instinct screamed that it was Yohji.

Without even considering the possibility of spinal injury, I rolled the body over to check who it was; it _was_ Yohji, and he was in a very bad way.

There was blood streaming down his face, and his leg was bent at an angle that had to have been excruciatingly painful. Wrapping him in my coat, I picked up his body and made directly for where I hoped my car would still be; I could have sworn that at one point he rasped out my name, but he never moved apart from uneasy breathing and he seemed to be unconscious the entire time.

The closest hospital had no relation to Kritiker; I was glad. The questions they asked made it somewhat difficult, but I would rather not have to repair ties with those self-righteous bastards. If I have no other choice, they can have me; but they will _never_ get Yohji unless he is certain that he wishes to return.

Of that much, I am completely sure.

Dropping into the seat by Yohji's bed, a terrible sense of familiarity floods into me. I never wanted to be in this situation again; once was hard enough. The only difference now is that there is no vengeance to be had, because Tsuji is dead and there is no one else to blame for this but me.

I run my hand lightly down Yohji's arm, dodging around adhesive bandages and the I.V. puncturing his golden skin. Seeing the needle in his arm makes me wonder; he told me once that he did a lot of drugs when he was younger…but he never told me why. Was he escaping from the reality of his life, or trying to mask some sort of pain?

I don't want to think about this…being in another of these hospitals is sending my brain to terribly dark places. I just want to get out of here but…I can't leave Yohji now. It was difficult enough being in another room, and so I refuse to abandon him at this point.

I want to beg him to wake up, so that I can let him know how much I love him, and that I'm sorry for everything that I've done to him…

"Please, Yohji…open your eyes…"

I don't expect him to listen. Still, I can't help but try…gently placing my palm on his check, I press my lips against his. There's no response from him, and I slump back into the hard hospital chair, defeated.

How long will it take…how long will I have to suffer? I thought the worst was done when Aya woke up, and that nothing would ever hurt that much again…Clearly, I was completely wrong.

This is worse than my sister, and now I know what true rock bottom feels like.

I killed for Aya…but I would die for Yohji.

* * *

_It's…dark. There's no sense of time in this place…I occasionally see flashes of colour; maybe memories, maybe just figments of my imagination. _

_The voices, too. I don't catch much of what they actually say, but I can tell that it's mostly two people. One of them is female, and she seems to spend most of her time talking with the other voice. _

_That one's male, and it has a deep rumble to it that seems almost…pained. He says a lot, and no one usually answers, so I guess he must be talking to me. I feel rude not answering, but I just can't move my body. _

_I don't feel any pain, and I wonder how long I'm going to have to live like this…if you can call it 'living'. Occasionally I feel someone touching my arm, my face, my hair…I think it's the man with the deep voice, but I just can't place who he should be. _

_I don't know what happened to me, and there's just…nothing there. The male voice seems vaguely familiar, but there's no name, or even a face. _

_I wish that I could just wake up, or remember…but it's not happening._

_I don't like this place._

* * *

It's been thirty-six days since I brought Yohji here. He hasn't moved in that time, much less shown any signs of waking. Apparently, hope for him is wearing thin.

Ken somehow found us last week. He said that he wanted to say goodbye before he used Takatori's influence to put him in prison. Apparently, he thinks that he'll get himself in order by doing that.

I'm glad for him…There was something in his eyes for a long time, a growing psychosis that could easily have put us all in danger. If there is one of us who can be redeemed…it's Ken.

This chair by Yohji's bed has basically become my new home. The doctors and nurses don't even realise that I'm here, most of the time.

Sighing, I reach out to gently stroke his face. My fingers freeze when I feel muscles twitch under my caress, and I can only watch as his mouth curves into a smile. My breathing starts to come faster and I can't help but smile as well, running my palm across his forehead and down his cheek.

He looks like a fallen angel…scarred, damaged and painfully gorgeous, smiling for the first time since the morning that I…that I broke his heart. Again.

Movement catches my eye, and I look down as his fingers slowly stretch out, one by one. Slapping the button to call a nurse, I use my spare hand to lift his, revelling in the feel of the slightly moving fingers.

This is the most movement he's shown in the past month, and my heart feels like it might just tear out of my chest from the possibility that he's regaining consciousness. I know that it's unlikely, but…I just want to hear his voice once again.

A nurse walks into the room; I recognise her. In a cruel twist of fate, her name is Asuka. I'd rather _anyone_ but her here if Yohji is actually going to wake up, but there is not much that I can do.

"What's going…Oh!"

Just as she entered the room, his eyelids twitched, and they began to open. For the first time since I threw him my sword, I see those shining green eyes.

The sight shocks me and I step back, hitting the wall as Nurse Asuka calls for a doctor. I might just start hyperventilating…he's awake; what's he going to be like? Is he going to remember? Has something terrible happened because of his injuries?

Shockingly, he starts to sit up. Hand rubbing his head, I hear his voice speak out, dry and cracked from lack of use.

"Where…am I?"

I vaguely watch the nurse as she talks to him; asks him whether he knows his name.

"My…name? I…I don't remember…"

The words reach through my stupor and something in me breaks.

He doesn't remember.

All rational thought gone, I turn from the wall and walk straight out of the room. I pass the doctor, but he doesn't speak. My hands rise up and grab my biceps as I stumble down the corridor, heading for the exit and starting to shiver.

He's…forgotten. What's going to happen now? Will he remember me, what we had once upon a time?

Or is everything gone?

I should go back and be there with him, _for_ him, but I can't. If he looks at me without recognition…Oh, God, I love him too much for that. Stepping out into the open air, I slide down against the wall of the hospital until I'm sitting on the ground.

Tears start running down my face as I consider a world where Yohji doesn't know who I am.

It's a fate that could be worse than death.

* * *

My head hurts like a son of a bitch…Apparently, I've been in this hospital for a month. I don't know how I got here, or how I got my injuries…I don't actually remember anything.

Oh, I know all about the basic stuff; I remember how to walk, how to hold a conversation, and how to flirt with that cute nurse, but…I don't even know my own name.

It feels like there's something or…or some_one_ that should be here with me…is it the man with the deep voice who I kept hearing while I was in that coma? Why isn't he here anymore? Maybe he wasn't even real in the first place. Will the nurse know?

"Nurse? Tell me, was there anyone here with me when I was asleep? I remember hearing your lovely voice, but was there a…man?"

Her eyes widen and she coughs to clear her throat. She blushes slightly, but I don't know why. Did he try and pick her up or something?

"Ah, yes. There was the man who brought you in here…he stayed by your side until you woke up earlier, but…no one's seen him since."

Something aches at the back of my head, possibly a memory straining to break through the haze of what little I remember. The man who brought me here…what _was_ he to me, and why isn't he here now?

"What did he look like? Did he tell you his name, or how we knew each other?"

"Umm…He did say his name once, but I can't quite recall it…I think his surname may have started with an F, or maybe it was something else…But I do remember what he looked like. He had this brown, almost red hair, really quite pale skin, and these amazing purple eyes. He really was quite an attractive man."

I guess that's why she was blushing. Someone must've had a bit of a crush.

"A good-looking man, hey? Well, aren't I just the luckiest…"

She beams, and I vaguely find myself thinking about how pretty she is when she smiles. Her nametag reads 'Itou Asuka'…it seems like there's something familiar there, but I can't really pick what…This amnesia is really fucking annoying. There's a very important detail that I'm missing here, only I don't have the slightest idea what it could be!

It gets incredibly painful when I push too hard to remember, but several times over the last few hours I've felt _so_ close to remembering various things, but then the stabbing pain sets in and I have to stop. Apparently, this is all because I took a severe blow to the head. None of the doctors know how it happened; clearly the redheaded man never told them.

I might not remember why I'm here, but there are clues all across my body. From what I've seen, my skin has scars all over it; marks that are too old to have been from this accident.

Whatever I did before ending up in here, it can't have involved anything boring. Other than that, there isn't anything that I know.

I asked the doctor whether my memories would come back; he said they might. _Might_? I don't know whether I can live like this, as a man without a past…I might as well be dead.

I can't help but think that the redheaded man with the deep voice is the key to everything…why hasn't he come back?

I know it hasn't been long since I woke up; it was only a few hours ago, but still…I need to talk to this man. Who _is_ he?

* * *

Sitting bolt upright, it takes me a few seconds to realise where I am. This is the hospital that I woke up in a few days ago, where I opened my eyes and started on a blank slate. My head aches, just like it's been doing almost constantly since I regained consciousness. Apparently, that's normal for people like me.

Rubbing my eyes, I feel tension flood my body when flashes of my dream come back to me.

I was lying back in a ridiculously oversized bed, feeling like I was about to sink into the mattress. There was a stretch of pale white skin in front of my eyes, a well-muscled but scarred torso…the pleasure of someone riding me with pure abandon…and a shock of red hair falling across purple eyes.

An undeniably male and somewhat familiar voice groaning something unintelligible as he came, accompanied by my own shout of…Aya?

But isn't that…a female name? And is there something in the fact that the man I was fu-…that the man in my dream seemed so similar to Asuka's description of my mysterious rescuer?

The headache only intensifies. Maybe none of this is worth remembering anyway; he hasn't come back, and I don't remember anything about him besides what my unreliable dreams try to tell me.

This is the chance for a new start…maybe I should simply accept that fact, and not worry about brief glimpses of a life that, for all intents and purposes, means nothing.

If he's abandoned me now, maybe we truly don't mean anything to each other. It still feels like an important memory is trying to break through, but it simply can't. Tomorrow, I'm going to accept my fate, and if my memory doesn't come back…I'll start a new life.

There's not much else I can do.

* * *

I'm not going to go back and visit him. All I did was cause him pain, when I just wanted him to be happy. I called the hospital, and they filled me in on the details of his condition. The amnesia seems permanent, they said.

Now, if he doesn't regain his memories, he'll be free of everything. What I've done, what Neu did, how Asuka died, all the people he has killed…it hurts to know that I can't be a part of his life anymore, but it's better for him this way…even if it's not better for me.

He can find himself someone to settle down with, a person who can be open to him and free with their love…it's the least that he deserves.

In two days, I'm returning to Kritiker. I made a deal that I would go back to them if they agreed to stay away from Yohji's new life…Takatori acquiesced almost instantly. As much as I despise the thought of working for them again, it's what I have to do in order to keep Yohji safe.

I've negotiated a position as a solo worker…the idea of a new team is repugnant. I truly thought that I was done with Kritiker; but there's too much blood on my hands to ever leave this life.

Yohji and Ken have found their exits by trying to bring out the human that lived beneath the murderer…I don't have that humanity anymore.

I'm the bringer of death, and everything I touch turns to shit.

Maybe one day, I'll see Yohji as I walk down the street, and I'll admire from a distance the man I will always love…but that's as far as it will be possible for me to go. There's no happy ending for me, but I can ensure that Yohji gets the best possible start to his new life.

I'm still paying the hospital bills, and I've given the hospital the information about his bank accounts. He'll probably never know who am I or why I did this for him…but somewhere deep inside his mind, there will always be a part of Kudoh Yohji still living on.

Maybe one day he'll remember everything…but until then, if it happens at all, I'll mourn for the man I love, now hidden beneath the new identity that he'll forge for himself.

No matter what comes to pass…I will never stop loving Yohji.


	11. Track 011: Death Is In Love With Us

*******This chapter is set about a year after the last one, and is going to be longer than usual. Giving myself a limited amount of chapters to work with has really come back to bite me…but this is the bit of the story that I've wanted to write since I started! Plus, this chapter marks my 100,000th word archived to FF; celebrate!*******

* * *

**Track Eleven: Death Is In Love With Us**

* * *

"…sinian?..._FUJIMIYA_!"

"…What?"

"Oh, for crying out loud…I'm trying to give you your _job_ here, so I'd appreciate a little concentration, Abyssinian."

I don't know what Rex expects from me, on today of all days. It's not as if I've been particularly cooperative over the past year…I'm only here because I knew that the bastard Takatori wouldn't leave Yohji in peace unless I essentially forced him to.

Yohji…today, it's harder than most days for me to carry on with some semblance of normality. It's the third of March…his birthday.

I wonder what he's doing now; is he still in this area, this country, this life? It wouldn't be hard for me to find out, given that it's not like he's hiding or anything…but I can't. Seeing someone else living inside the body I knew so well for so short a time would simply be…disgusting.

The feel of a manila folder connecting with the back of my head brings me back to the present. Rex is glaring at me, and she shakes her head as she drops the sheets of paper onto my table.

This is a lot different from the old days of missions. No dramatic videos from a shadowed Persia; no justifications for the things that I do; no mission room briefings. Instead, Rex and I are standing in my kitchen, and in around a minute she'll leave me to go through the details alone.

"He wants this done by the end of the week. The payment will be transferred into your account after you've reported in, as per usual."

"Hn."

I really couldn't care less what 'he' wants. I'm glad that they decided to do away with the video feed, because I don't know whether I could take orders that came from the mouth of that selfish little prick. At least when they come by paper I can delude myself into believing that they come from an anonymous source.

Rex sighs, and I look up just in time to see a slight sadness pass through her eyes.

"Look, Abys-…Ran, Mamoru told me what today is. We don't expect you to work tonight, just...look after yourself, okay?"

She turns her back before I can reply, walking out of my apartment and leaving me alone. Does she think that she _understands_ what this past year has been like for me? And as for that Takatori idiot, I don't want his pity. I don't need anyone's pity.

It's bad enough that Rex felt the need to address me using my first name…the name that I took up again when I left Yohji behind in the hospital. There was no point in continuing to be 'Aya', because it was only a painful reminder of the sister who left me and the man who gave me that name.

To the outside world, I am once again Fujimiya Ran; but there are very few people who know that fact. Apart from Rex, there are not many people with whom I interact. Of those, even fewer know my name.

I'm perfectly fine with this arrangement.

Glancing at the folder sitting on my table, I can't bring myself to read it. The information will all be there tomorrow, on a day that doesn't make my heart feel like it's breaking with every passing minute.

Instead, I find myself going to the second bedroom of this apartment, the one that I converted into a study not long after I moved in. Walking to the large bookshelf, I run my fingers across the spiral-bound spines of several identical books.

I shouldn't have these…I should've left them where they lay, and simply moved on. But I couldn't resist bringing them with me, and now that I have them, I can't bear to dispose of them. After I left the hospital that last time, I returned to the Weiss house. Most of the building was completely cleaned out…only two rooms remained intact. My possessions were all still in my room, where I'd moved them back the day Yohji returned from Europe. His possessions were all still in his room, too.

I grabbed a bag full of things from my room, abandoning most of it. I was on my way from the house when I found myself standing at Yohji's door, staring blankly at the clutter around the room. Just inside the door, sitting on a chest of drawers, were these books in a neat pile…Yohji's sketchbooks. I'd never seen them before, didn't know that he had that many; but the top one had been open, and a rough portrait of myself was staring up at the ceiling.

I don't know why I picked up the pile of books and placed them in my bag…but I have them now, and sometimes I can't resist the urge to flick through them and witness how Yohji must have seen the things around him.

The first time I took a proper look through the sketchbooks, I found that tucked inside one of them was a photograph that I didn't know existed. I suppose that Ken or O-…Takatori took it; it's from our time in the trailer, one day when we were having no business and the weather was nice. I'm sitting on a patch of lush grass, looking like I want to murder something…Yohji is sprawled out next to me, cigarette hanging from lips that are curved in a bright smile.

He looks breathtakingly beautiful…I only wish that I had've taken more time to appreciate that sort of detail back then. But I was too wrapped up in my own little world of angst, and now it's unlikely that we'll ever be seen together in such a way again.

Lifting the middle book from the shelf, I walk to my small living room. Settling into a black-upholstered armchair, I open the cover of the book and look at the first drawing, one I've seen many times. The pen sketch is of a person lying in a bed, the sheet riding low on their hips to display their back.

Judging by the shape of the muscles and a distinctive scar running across an exposed shoulder blade, I know it's a drawing of me. He must have done it one morning while I was asleep, because I certainly don't remember him ever doing it. There are a number of similar drawings throughout two or three of the books, as well as some that must have come from his memory.

It's no surprise that he was placed into the position of art teacher; his skill level is amazing. There are also a lot of landscapes that look like one could walk right into them…I never knew that he had such a talent before I found these books.

Feeling a familiar heat build up behind my eyes, I close the sketchbook and take a deep breath, willing my heart to return to its normal pace. I thought that this would get easier after enough time had passed, but…it seems like it's only getting harder.

Did I make the right decision, leaving him in the hospital, alone? Or would things be…

No. There's nothing I can do about it now…except continue to mourn for a love that has long been forgotten by the other man involved.

* * *

Sitting on the train, glad to be done with work for another day, I find my mind wandering. It's been over a year since I woke up in a hospital bed with a pretty nurse standing over me…and that pretty nurse is now my wife of six months.

Yes, we moved quickly, but it's not like I had anything else in my life to hold on to. I was essentially alone in this world, and Asuka was so kind and so loving…I felt that by marrying her, I might be able to gain some sense of identity for myself. Hell, I even took her last name and tacked it together with the first given name I thought of…'Ryou'.

That name means nothing, but it's still a step up from an anonymous man with no memory of his past. Rather, now I'm a 'reborn' man with no memory of his past. I thought that beginning a family would help with that rebirth…but it didn't.

The doctors say that I will probably never fully regain my memory, and that trying to force the issue will do more harm than good. But how am I supposed to ignore my forgotten life when the dreams won't leave me alone?

Far too often, I wake up in the middle of the night with an unknown name on my lips…'Aya'.

I know that it hurts Asuka when I start saying someone else's name in the bed we share, but she believes that it's the name of a forgotten girlfriend that I had before my accident.

I don't have the heart to tell her that that dreams usually feature only a redheaded male…a pale-skinned, purple-eyed man who may or may not be the person she described as having stayed by my side for a month. I never see the rest of his features, so I can't ask Asuka for any details.

She handled it well for the first few months we lived together, but only three weeks after we married, the fighting started. She didn't understand why I couldn't just let it all go, leave it all in the past…It's not like I could simply turn off a switch. As the dreams kept coming and the name kept falling from my lips, we started to drift apart. We fought more and more often, and she began taking longer shifts at the hospital as I began drinking quite regularly.

Two things that have become apparent to me since I woke up are that I must have drank quite a lot in my 'past life', because my alcohol tolerance is extremely high, and that I must have smoked a lot. Apparently, my lungs showed substantial damage when they were testing me at the hospital, but the addiction seems to have been forgotten.

Asuka says I should be thankful for that.

About a month ago, she came to me with a bright, beaming smile on her face. The conversation has stuck in my mind like we only just had it…

"_Oh, Ryou, I have the most wonderful news!"_

"_Really? Did you get the Head Nurse position?"_

"_No, it's even better than that! Ryou, I'm pregnant!"_

I remember thinking that this would truly be the start of a new life. By putting a human being on this Earth that had my genes, my new existence would be validated. I still reckon it might work; and for the first time since I woke up, I might actually have my own identity, as a father _and_ a husband.

Apparently, the love for someone's children is greater than their love for their partner…I won't need fuzzy, vague dreams of a male lover if I can have a devoted family. Maybe then, I can truly start existing as Itou Ryou.

The train loudspeaker announces the arrival at my station; standing up, I move off the train and towards our house. It's only a small place, but it'll be big enough to hold the three of us.

Asuka and I haven't fought since she told me the news. Instead of going home to an empty house, like I was getting used to, I know she'll be there tonight. She's cut back on her workload, and I think that this marriage might actually work out in the end.

Maybe there is hope for a man without a past, after all. In the end, it's the present and the future that matters; and I'm free to carve my own. Maybe I'm the lucky one after all.

Turning the corner onto my street, there's a faint smile on my face as I walk the last few metres to our house, loosening my tie as I go. I've never felt particularly comfortable in the suit of a salaryman, but it was a miracle that I got any job at all, considering the profound lack of experience or references. It's tolerable, as long as I know that I have Asuka waiting for me.

I push open the front door of the house, greeted by the light and warmth of a true home. I can see that Asuka isn't in the living room…she's probably in the bedroom, reading a book or something.

"Asuka?"

I call her name brightly as I wander through the house, heading for the bedroom at the back of the building. The door is closed, which strikes me as slightly odd; I push the feeling aside and enter the bedroom.

Taking a few steps into the room, the sight before my eyes has my legs collapsing beneath me as I stumble backwards and connect heavily with the wall.

The door to the ensuite bathroom is wide open, allowing me the perfect view of my wife hanging by her neck from the shower curtain rod.

I start to hyperventilate as the reality of the situation begins to set in…but then everything changes.

The world goes black for a second, and when it comes back the leather belt around Asuka's neck has transformed into a thin silver wire. Blinking furiously, the belt returns before my eyes, but I don't have time to analyse that vision.

I feel myself slipping away, and in my place it seems like a completely different personality has entered my body. A cold, detached voice at the back of my mind observes the stillness and colour of the body in the next room, concluding that she's been dead for at least an hour. How I know this, I have no idea.

My right hand flexes and grasps at my left wrist; there's nothing there, and my nails scratch into the skin. I know I'm running on instinct…an instinct that I don't remember.

The strangest urge occurs to me; I feel like I should be meeting up with the others, now that the mission has been accomplished…

My head drops forward and I tip it back up, accidentally hitting my skull against the wall in the process. The pain strikes through my head, making the strange presence disappear, and I finally feel like I'm back in control of my body.

Spotting a piece of paper on the bed, I grab it and flee from the room and the sight before me as my heart begins to scream.

I'm back in the front room before I glance down at the paper clutched in my hands…it's tear-stained, which is only made worse from the wetness sliding down my own face to smudge the ink. The characters on the note are shaky and almost unreadable, but I recognise Asuka's hand nonetheless.

Beginning to read the words, my hands shake violently and I want to tear the paper apart and pretend that this isn't real; but my mind refuses to let me finish before I've read the whole thing.

'_Ryou,_

_I want you to know that this isn't your fault. You've looked so happy since I found out I was pregnant, and that's why I had to do this._

_I miscarried, and I lost our baby. There was no way I could handle seeing the despair that would surely have been on your face when I told you, and so I took the coward's way out._

_I've failed you as a wife, and failed our child as a mother. I understand if you can't forgive me for this, but know that I will always love you._

_I wish that you find someone else to love, or that you can find your Aya again. You deserve to be happy, Ryou, and I hope that you can be._

_I'm so sorry.'_

The next thing I remember is coming back to myself in a dingy bar, a collection of empty bottles and glasses littering the table in front of me. The agony has been replaced by a dull ache…but that's not quite good enough.

If I die of alcohol poisoning tonight, then that's the way it's supposed to be. Will I see you in Heaven, Asuka? Or will I watch you from below in Hell?

Maybe I'll find the answer to that question at the bottom of this next glass.

* * *

The noise of the city nightlife drowns out most of my thoughts, allowing me the brief peace that comes from not being able to focus on my own issues. But the further I walk, the quieter the streets become and the louder my mind speaks.

It reminds me that I wasn't even in the same country as Yohji for his last birthday; and that before then, he always disappeared on this day and wouldn't usually come back for a couple of nights. Looking back now, I can pinpoint the year that it went from irritating me to tearing me apart inside…but back then, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it.

And now he's gone.

I wonder what his life is like now…is he happy? Is he spending tonight in bed with a woman? Or with two women? It wouldn't surprise me, considering some of the stories he told…

My depressive mood turns livid when the breath is suddenly knocked from my body. Quickly registering that some stinking drunk leaving a bar has slammed right into me, I lash out with my fist and connect against the moron's jaw. He falls to the ground, and as I begin to walk away he starts to yell in a slightly slurred voice.

"What the fuck was that for, Aya? Stupid bastard…"

I feel like I am about to vomit, and whirling around I see the man sprawled out on the ground…the long-limbed, blonde-haired beauty who looks like he's been crying for hours, faintly illuminated by the light from the bar.

"_What _did you just say?"

I can't believe…it's…it can't be…There's no way that the man on the ground is…is Yohji? And did he really say…'Aya'?

"I said, what the fuck was that for, man? And then I called you a stupid bastard, you stupid bastard! Why, what're you gonna do? Gonna hit me again? Please, do it. But make sure you do it properly; you may as well just go ahead and kill me, I don't even fucking care anymore…"

He looks so dejected, drunk off his babbling ass and sitting on the ground with one hand gingerly prodding at his jaw, that my first urge is to pick him up off the ground and embrace him until he can't breathe…I haven't laid eyes on this man in over a year.

But clearly, he doesn't remember. I must have imagined him saying my name…though why I'd imagine someone saying the name I haven't heard in a year, I don't know. Some sort of wistful delusion, I suppose.

As it is, I extend my hand to him, waiting for him to accept the help to stand again. My mind is in a state of shock…Yohji is sitting in front of me…talking to me…and I don't think this is a dream…

The moment his fingers clench around mine, the world stops. For a second, the only life in the universe is me and this man who used to be my _everything_. I truly never thought that I would see him again, let alone punch him in the face when we met once again…

I forget that fact that he doesn't remember what we had, and simply revel in the feel of his skin on mine. Yohji doesn't seem to appreciate the moment in the same way.

"Oi, you, as nice as I find holdin' your hand, I gotta tell you, I'm straight and marri-…"

His voice trails off, but he said enough to drag rusted nails through my heart. He…he got married? As in…married to a _woman_? Oh, God, I though that time would make this easier…I drop his hand, stuffing my own in my pocket.

"…But I guess I'm not really married anymore, what with the whole 'my wife is dead' thing…"

His words break through my cloud of self-pity, and he dissolves into laughter that chills me to the bone. It's not a humourous laugh in the least…it's a bitter sound, one that grows more and more maniacal before dissolving into loud sobs of anguish. Did he just say…dead?

Kneeling next to him on the footpath, I ignore the fact that he doesn't know who I am and wrap my arms around his shoulders. For the first time in God knows how long, I make physical contact with someone who isn't about to die by my hand…the experience is made even more surreal by the fact that the man in my arms is Yohji…or, a new man who inhabits his body…

As much as it's going to hurt, I have to play dumb here.

"Shhhh…What's your name?"

"My…my name? It doesn't matter, it's not…not my r-real name anyway, just one I made u-up off the top…top of my head…"

His voice cracks and fluctuates wildly, his words punctuated by sobs and gasps for air. My arms tighten around him, but he stiffens and breaks out of my grip. His body is still shaking, but I can tell he's trying hard to calm himself; the alcohol in his system is making that difficult.

"S-…sorry, I'm making a total mess of myse-…"

He cuts his sentence off, cocking his head to the side. The clouded look that had been put in his eyes by the alcohol disappears, replaced by a frightening, searching clarity. As if the intoxication has been completely flushed from his system, his voice is steady when he starts to speak again.

"I _know_ you…I mean, have we ever met before?"

* * *

The man standing above me inhales sharply at my question. The stabbing pain, the one that comes back whenever I try to remember, starts in on my brain but I attempt to ignore it. I can barely see him, with the light coming from behind silhouetting his features, but there's something…something about this man that means a lot to me.

The pain in my head is compounded by the pain in my heart from Asuka, but all I can concentrate on is the man in front of me. Wobbling slightly, I stagger to my feet; the man comes in and out of focus, but I try my hardest to stop him from going into double. He takes a step back, as if looking to run away.

I reach out and grab hold of his bicep. He _knows_ something…

"What do you know about me? About my life before I forgot everything?"

He takes a deep breath, wrenching his arm from my hand.

"I've never met you, you drunk bastard. Go home, sleep it off."

He hisses the words, sounding furious with everything. That only serves to make me angrier, as do his words; I _can't_ go home, not with her body still hanging there…

"You're lying."

The words are out of my mouth before I know why I'd say something like that. He sounded convincing, and what would I know? I don't remember anyone I met before this time last year, so he's probably telling the truth.

But that horrible, cold voice from earlier is back; it's telling me that he's lying, and that there's no doubt about it. Does this mean…is this _voice_ from my old life, or something?

"And you're drunk. Look, I'll drive you home; you're in no condition to do it yourself."

I'm fully aware that he just purposely changed the subject, but it suddenly doesn't matter. Asuka…why did you have to leave me like that? The cold voice comes back, whispering something that sounds like 'again', but I ignore it.

I can't go home, I have no home to go to anymore…The tears begin to flow again as all the pain I tried to ignore comes back full force.

"I…I don't have a-a home anymore…"

The man steps back towards me, and for a moment I think that he's going to hug me again. My head mentions that I should be freaked out by the thought of a strange man touching me like that…but my body leans towards him, even as I continue to bawl like a child.

…Is there something that my subconscious remembers about this vaguely familiar person? Or am I just going insane in my grief?

As if catching himself, the stranger freezes and puts a reasonable distance between us. I can't see his face, but I want to know what he's thinking so badly…

"Why? There has to be somewhere I can take you."

I don't even care that this man is a stranger anymore. The story of the past few hours is spilling out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"I got h-home this afternoon and…and my wife, she…she'd k-…she'd k-k…My wife fucking _killed_ herself! Oh God, Asuka, I can't believe you're dead…"

My legs go weak once again, but before I feel the hard pavement scrape my knees an arm wraps around my waist. I'm bent almost double with only this man's arm supporting me to stand…

His deep voice rumbles through my ears, and for whatever reason…it soothes me.

"I'm going to sit you here against this wall. I have to make a call, but I'll be back in a minute, so _don't move._"

I know it's an order, which vaguely irritates me, but nonetheless I let him gently lower me to the ground. Once he's satisfied that I can't fall any further, he turns and walks away, pulling out a mobile phone. He's too far away for me to catch any of the conversation.

* * *

As Yohji speaks, my mind begins to turn, analysing the facts while trying to block out the pervading bliss that appeared when I laid eyes on him.

Firstly, either his memory has come back enough for him to remember Asuka, or he married someone with the same name. That nurse from the hospital? I feel an irrational flash of jealousy, which leads to the next point.

More than once, he mentioned someone being dead; it would also appear that his wife has committed suicide.

And thirdly? I've got my arm around his waist to steady him before he falls. The familiar shape of his body, and the familiar smell underneath a layer of disgusting cologne and alcohol…Even though he's struggling to stay upright and is in a terrible condition, I harden just a little.

It's been a long time since I experienced this…my body is crying out for attention, but that will only do more harm than good.

And by the sound of what he's said, the woman's body is still at his house. I can't call the police, because I don't know where to send them; I don't want to hurt Yohji further by asking a lot of questions.

I only have one option in this situation.

Telling Yohji that I have to make a call, I prop him against the wall of the bar and walk away, keeping watch on him out of the corner of my eye. I don't want to let him out of my sight…he's truly broken, once again.

This is all so similar to the night I watched him kill Neu, and the night that he appeared in my room and stayed for the very first time.

Sighing softly, I pull my mobile phone out of my pocket. There is one number on speed dial that I've never had to use…but right now, there's no other choice. The direct number to Persia…I don't want to call him, but as the Chief of Police he'll handle this situation properly, and he surely knows where the house is.

I didn't want to have to bring Yohji back to Kritiker in any fashion…but there's nothing else that I can possibly do. For Yohji, I have to make sure that his wife's body is treated properly. It seems that he loved her, whether it was true affection or if his subconscious simply reached out to the name.

I steel myself as I press the button to call the number. I have to make this as quick as possible, before Yohji gets any stupid ideas in his head. He might not recognise me, and he might be a totally different person, but…if something happened to him, I couldn't take it.

I still love him.

"Abyssinian?"

The easily-recognisable voice of Takatori sounds astounded. It's no wonder; I've managed to avoid nearly all direct contact with him since the final mission against Epitaph.

"Persia. It seems that there has been a…_disturbance_ at the residence of former agent Balinese. From what I can gather, his wife has committed suicide and her body is still in the house."

There's a shocked gasp from the other end of the line before the professional voice returns.

"And how did you come to know this information? I though you'd cut all ties with the former Balinese."

"I came across him in the street, intoxicated and clearly not coping. He doesn't recognise me, but he told me the information himself."

There's silence, and I vaguely wonder if Persia's face is crinkled in concentration, just as he used to do years ago. When the voice returns, I'm surprised to hear that the cold professionalism has disappeared from it.

"Listen, Ay-…Ran. I know that this is going to be hard for you, but could you please stay with him for a while longer? I'll send someone over to deal with the body immediately, but…who knows what trauma of this kind will do to his mind?"

He sounds so genuinely concerned…for a moment, I could have sworn that I was talking to Omi and not the manipulative bastard who leads Kritiker. Then, the true weight of his request dawns on me.

"Ran? Please, can you look after him? His doctors _did_ mention that a severe shock or rush of emotion could possibly trigger his memories…I don't want him to be alone if that happens. I also don't know if he'd be feeling suicidal…Please, Ran, I know you still love him."

I…I'm actually not sure if I can do this. Comfort is a foreign concept to me…surely I'd just make things worse. And what gives Takatori the right to ask something like that of me? Presuming that he knows everything about how I feel…

But, a part of me whispers, he's right.

"Fine."

And with that snapped word, I sever the connection.

Turning back to Yohji, I walk over and am about to come up with some sort of a plausible cover story when I hear him snore.

He's fallen asleep, propped against the rough wall of the dirty building.

Despite everything that has happened, the shock of seeing Yohji and the pain of seeing him suffer, as well as the request from Persia, I can't help but let out a small laugh.

He hasn't really changed all that much.

Lifting his unresponsive arm over my shoulders, I haul him from the ground. My skin is tingling where he's pressed against my side, but I have to ignore it. For now, it looks like I must take him home…to _my_ home.

I feel my heart leap at the thought that I truly have Yohji in my arms, and that I'm carrying his unconscious body to my car…and I know that he's still inside that glorious body somewhere.

After all, he thought that he recognised me…surely that wasn't merely his drunken mind confusing me with someone from his new life.

At least, I hope not.

Reaching my car, I gently lay him down in my back seat. I suppose I'll have a visitor sleeping on my couch tonight; though only God knows what's going to happen when he wakes up tomorrow.

It occurs to me that for the first time, I'm with Yohji on the day of his birthday. The world is a cruel place, when you do the things I do.

* * *

Sitting up on a strange couch, I finally survey my surroundings while my head pounds with a feeling I recognise as being a hangover. I've been awake for twenty minutes, and for fifteen of those minutes I was crying my eyes out about yesterday.

Now, there's just nothing left. Only a throbbing numb feeling and a slightly uneasy sense that comes from waking up in a strange place, that I know only to be a living room. I have no idea where I am; there are no pictures on the walls to tell me who might own this place, and when I looked out of the window only the concrete jungle of the city greeted me. There is nothing out of the ordinary to indicate where I might be.

The only possibility I can come up with is that this place belongs to the man I met last night.

He said he didn't know me…but it didn't sound like the truth. Is this further proof that we really have met before, the fact that he took an emotional, sobbing drunk to his apartment?

My head aches even worse, and so I make a conscious effort to stop thinking. Whoever brought me here is gonna appear soon, I know it; there's no point in stressing about the unknown factors.

Settling back into the comfortable couch, I spot a spiral-bound book sitting on a low table to my left. Well, if I'm just going to be passing the time…

Reaching across, I grab the book. Upon opening it, I'm surprised to find that it's a sketchbook of some sort. The first drawing seems to be of a person in a bed with his back turned to the artist…it's done extremely well. Did the person who lives here draw this?

Flicking through the pages, I can't help but notice that many of the pencil and pen sketches feature the face of the same man, one with short hair and delicate features. Something reaches out to me from the drawings, but then again, that's been happening a lot lately…

I hear footsteps coming from a hallway behind me, and it occurs to me that it's probably whoever brought me here. Finally, I might get some answers about where I am.

The door to the living room opens, and I close the book to place it back on the table. Movement catches my eyes, and I see a small piece of white paper fall from the pages to the ground. Rolling over to pick it up, I see bare feet appear in my line of sight as I reach down to grab the paper.

Picking it up, I guess that it's a photo from the weight and size. As I turn it over, I see the feet across the room move.

"_NO!_ _DON'T!_"

I barely hear the panicked yell as I take in the contents of the photo. In the foreground, lying back as if basking in the sun, is a lanky blonde man…me. Is this…is this how I looked before the accident? There's no doubt that it's me sprawled out there, but…why?

My breathing gets faster as I see the other man in the photo, sitting behind the blo-…_me_ with much more class. His facial expression is pure anger; and yet, I still recognise those features. A pale face, set with purple eyes…and framed with deep red hair.

This is the man from my dreams; I never saw the rest of him, but those three details are so identical to the man I dream about fucking that I _know_ it's him.

A million questions jump to mind, with a few coming to the front of my brain in perfect clarity. Does the person who lives here know who this is? Can they take me to him? Why do they have this photo, anyway? Who the fuck are they?

I address the feet from my current position, still hanging half off the couch.

"Hey, who is-…"

My voice stops working when I lift my head to fully take in the man standing in front of me.

For the first time, I finally see the man who helped me last night. In the night, he was just a dark and shadowed figure; but now, in the light of day…I see my pale, redheaded, violet-eyed rescuer.

My voice momentarily comes back, allowing me to gasp out a single sentence.

"Who _am_ I?"


	12. Track 012: Heaven Tonight

**Track Twelve of Twelve: Heaven Tonight**

* * *

"Who _am_ I?"

Yohji's gasped question fills me with a dreadful sense of panic; how the Hell am I going to explain that photo? I should've put that sketchbook on my shelf, why did I leave it sitting on the coffee table? Oh, shit…

"Please, don't lie to me this time. I _knew_ there was something vaguely familiar about you last night…"

Raking my hand through my hair, cut short the way it was years ago, I go to sit in the armchair across the room. It will be easier for me to think if there's distance between us.

Yohji sits up, leaning against the arm of the couch and crossing his legs in front of him. His voice is strong once again, probably spurred on by his determination to interrogate me.

"No, come sit over here. It'll be better, because I reckon you have a lot to fill me in on…"

I hesitate, and he leans over to pat the empty space on the couch. Sighing in defeat, I walk over and place myself, straight-backed, onto the couch cushion. Because I'm sitting properly, Yohji in his cross-legged position can only see my profile; that's a lot easier for me than having to look directly into those green eyes.

"Y-…Actually, by what name do you call yourself?"

It occurs to me just in time that I probably shouldn't refer to him as 'Yohji'. It's likely he's never heard that name in his life, and calling him by his first name will also show how much familiarity we have between us.

After all, he was married and he _did_ say he was straight earlier. The concept of a gay lover could be a little too much…

"I'm known as Itou Ryou…or at least, I have been since I was in hospital. And you…you're Aya, aren't you?"

My head snaps around to face him; he remembers my name? The shocked look on my face draws a wry smile from the blonde I used to know so well, and he elucidates.

"Every couple of nights, at _least,_ I'd wake up from a dream shouting…'Aya'. Asuka thought it was a girlfriend from my past life…but I knew that it was a redheaded man. That's you, isn't it?"

There's only a little uncertainty in his voice; but what does he mean, dreams? Did they involve the fighting? The killing? Or…the fucking?

"…Yes. That would be me. But I do not go by that name now; I'm Ran, Fujimiya Ran. What do you remember of your past?"

He seems to realise that I know about his amnesia, and accepts it without question. Before I can tell him anything, I have to find out how much he knows. I truly don't want him to remember the killing, and the grief…I don't want to see him break apart as he realises what he's done in life.

"Not much, and it's a real pain…But I do know one thing. You and I…we were lovers, weren't we? And there was…"

He cuts off his sentence, grabbing his head in his hands as that tortured face contorts in pain. Without thinking, I reach out to grab him; but before I can actually touch him, he takes a few deep breaths and straightens out.

"Don't…Don't worry about me, I'm fine. That happens whenever I try too hard to remember. Please, _help_ me remember, so that I can stop the pain and the uncertainty…"

Not for the first time, my mind tells me that I should simply knock him unconscious and take him back to the front of the bar where I found him. I shouldn't be trying to bring him back…but my selfish heart says otherwise. It wants me to return my Yohji, to fill those dull eyes with the confident light they used to show.

"Are you sure you want to do this right now? After…after everything that happened yesterday?"

For a moment, he looks terribly lost and lonely, like he wants to crawl into a hole and die. Then, in a split-second, his face is filled with determination and more than a little self-belief.

"It's true, I'm distraught about Asuka…but I knew her for a year. And yeah, I love her, but…in the dreams, you looked at me with so much…_devotion_. There's twenty-something years that I don't remember, but I know that I must've loved you, too. The flashes of memory that come in the dreams tell me that I still _do_ have love for you trapped inside my brain. Maybe, if you help fill in the blanks, I can unlock all that again."

My neck begins to ache from its turned position, and before I realise what I'm doing I've turned my entire body, drawing my legs up beneath me so that I'm completely facing Yohji. He knows too much already…I suppose that I should tell him at least _some_ of what I know. I can't deny him something like that.

If I had over two decades of lost knowledge, I would want to know the truth as well.

"Yes, we were lovers, but…it was a complicated situation. I hurt you, Ryou; all I ever did was _hurt_ you!"

"Aya, Ran, whoever the fuck you are; listen, I don't remember any of that. Don't you think that if the old me was so hung up on how he was hurt by you, I'd remember _that?_ All I know is that you loved me, and that I loved you."

He stops, eyes widening as if coming to a sudden realisation.

"And you…you were the one who stayed with me when I was asleep, weren't you? Asuka told me that the man who brought me in hardly left my bedside until he disappeared completely one day…why? _Why?"_

I have no answer for him; nothing that will sound forgivable, at least, and so there's no choice but to tell the truth.

"Because…I'm a coward, Y-…Ryou. I didn't want to drag you back into what we used to-…"

I slap my hand over my mouth, horrified that I almost let out the one thing that I don't want him to know. He can remember Asuka, he can remember everyone else he ever loved; but I don't want to taint him with the bloodshed.

"What do you mean by _that_, Ran? What did we do?"

He's leaning forward now, staring into my eyes with a burning intensity that I haven't seen since…since the final time we slept together.

"There are some things that…that I think you should leave until you know the basics about your life. Please, will you allow me that much?"

Once again, the coward's way out. Nicely done, Fujimiya.

Yohji settles back against the arm of the couch, seemingly satisfied with my logic. He gestures for me to continue, and I do. Although I haven't truly spoken to another person in so long, this feels…_right_.

"Your name is Kudoh Yohji. Your birthday is…well, actually, it was yesterday. Happy belated birthday, Yohji. Oh, and that sketchbook? You drew everything in it, as well as in numerous others. I have them, too."

I see his eyes widen in shock, and he lets out an amazed 'huh' sound.

"You and I…we worked together for a lot of years. You used to be a florist, like me, along with two others. We've all gone our separate ways, though. We'd known each other for a year or two before we started sleeping together…that lasted almost a year, but I broke it off when I…when I realised that I was in love with you. Not long after that, you confessed to me…and we got together properly. It only lasted a month, though, when we were…forcibly separated. When we met up again…things were never quite the same."

By the end of my speech, I'm staring at my hands like I've never seen them before. I just can't look at him; it hurts too much, going through everything that we shared together…

"You…you still love him…me…I'm sorry, I didn't realise how hard this was going to be for you. I'm so sorry."

Before I have a chance to look up, Yohji has scooted towards me and grabbed me in his arms, comforting me. It's so much like the old days, especially our final night together, that I can't help but shed a tear or two. I had so much…but I threw it away, and now I don't know if I'll ever be able to get it back again.

"It's okay, Ran. I'm sorry that I pushed you so hard to tell me everything…I mean, I really wanna know, but…in your own time."

I immediately feel terrible; I'm still being a selfish bastard, just like always. Pushing Yohji off, I clear my throat and straighten up, looking him directly in the eyes. He lets me move away, but takes up my hand to hold it in a gesture that might be to comfort me, or might be to comfort him. Either way, it allows me to gather the strength for what I have to do.

"I'll tell you everything. Even those memories which I know you won't want to hear."

There's no point in trying to dance around the truth. I'm going to tell him his life story, right down to the people we killed and the people he loved. Chances are he won't even believe me; unless this somehow triggers his memory, it's just going to seem like fiction.

Settling under the familiar mask of Abyssinian, I block out all emotion and begin to tell Yohji the sordid tale of his past.

* * *

Hours later, I'm sprawled back on the filthy bed of a cheap motel, trying to put my mind in order. I had to get away from Ran so that I could think…and I couldn't go home.

Everything I've heard this morning seems like a dream, a detached experience that can't really have happened. If Ran's telling the truth, then…I'm a killer, he's a killer, and I was married to Asuka version three…or was it four? I'm just glad that Ran organised for her body to receive the respect she needed…I couldn't do it, not after all _this._

As much as I don't want to believe any of it, that voice from last night never popped up to tell me that Ran was lying…and the scars that litter my body testify to a dangerous life.

It all adds up too well…I have to talk to him again. There's more…there's more that I have to ask.

Grabbing the piece of paper Ran gave me from my pocket, I look at the address written there and mentally map out where to go. It should only be a five minute walk; that's how long it took to get here. Standing up, I leave the motel room and only barely remember to lock the door on my way out. Oh well, it's not like it matters; there's nothing important of mine in there. The only thing I have on me is my wallet.

I try to straighten out my thoughts as I walk down the streets. It makes me feel horrible, but Asuka's suicide has been pushed to the back of my mind, replaced instead by the possibility that I've…killed people. That I killed…the woman I loved.

My eyes are beginning to burn, and I have to blank out my mind and concentrate on breathing; I won't start crying in the street again.

Stopping in front of a large apartment building, I check the number on my piece of paper and walk inside. Stairs to the second floor, apartment number 206.

I have to force myself to calm down before I can knock on the door; eventually, I warn Ran of my arrival. It takes him a minute to open the door, and when he does I see that he's only wearing a pair of loose, dark jeans, no shirt and with wet hair dripping down onto his chest.

It's ridiculously sexy.

I don't know if it's a reaction because of what he says we once had; or because of the dreams; or because, really, he's damned good looking. I hadn't considered the possibility of being bisexual in the past year…now I'm seeing that it might just be the truth.

"I didn't think that you would come back so soon."

He sounds…well, I can't actually _tell_ how he sounds. I've realised that this guy is absurdly good at hiding his emotions, most of the time.

I open my mouth to speak, but then something catches my eye. I'd already noticed that his torso was just as, if not _more _scarred than mine, but this was something different. On his muscled stomach, where my eyes had…_somehow_ drifted, there's an unnatural indent to the skin that looks like…well, it's definitely a scar, but I couldn't say how he got it…

Suddenly, the world tilts and darkens.

A blurry scene opens before my eyes, of a dark…warehouse? Storage facility? I feel myself clutch my bicep, trying to stop the searing pain and the dripping blood. There's an arm around my waist, and I know that it's Ran…but what _is_ this?

He's asking me a question, and I reply, but I can't actually hear what's being said. Is this some sort of…memory?

My head flicks up just in time to see a single man come into the room from the far side, holding up a gun. Two shots ring out in quick succession, both hitting Ran in the torso as he falls to the floor.

This time I can hear what I scream, a panicked sound that tears to the very heart of me.

"AYAAAA!"

The world goes black again.

Gradually, colour begins to bleed back in; the scene is different this time, but I still have no control over my body. It's a…a bedroom? Yeah, that's it. My lungs feel like they're contracting in panic, and I fall down beside a body…it's Ran. I can see blood across the floor, and I know that there are tears streaming down my face; I'm saying something, but I can't hear it and he's not reacting.

One of his hands is wrapped around a blood-covered sword, and the other is pressing a balled-up piece of material to his thigh.

Did he…cut himself? Was it my fault? I've got my arms around him, supporting him, and there's a pain deep inside my chest…

The world goes black again.

This time, the new scene comes back fairly quickly. I'm lying on my back, and all I can see is the face of a pretty, blue-haired woman…is this the one that Ran called Asuka? A hand presses down against my throat, and all of a sudden I realise; this is Neu.

I still can't hear what's being said, a silent film playing out in front of me. My hands move to my wrist, drawing out a length of wire…Ran said that was my weapon…

It's around the woman's neck within a second, and she's scrabbling madly at the cutting line, but her air is quickly running out. Somehow, I stand up and she's spread out across my back…I feel like my heart is about to explode from grief; the moment her body loses all traces of movement, I realise I'm screaming in silent agony.

The world goes black again.

Flashing back into view, I'm in another bedroom. The woman is underneath me this time…and my hands are around her neck. She's struggling, but…my strength is much greater than hers.

The green-haired woman mutates into a blonde, who is putting up much less of a struggle…Did I kill both these women?

The world goes black again.

There's fire all around me, and my body feels like it's almost at breaking point. Pulling a small box out of my pocket, I look directly at the woman staggering before me.

A terrible sadness fills me as I press the button, setting off an explosion that almost sends me to the floor as her body flies away.

The thought occurs to me that I've killed so many people, so many women…And after I swore to never hurt a female…

The world goes black again.

I'm spread out in an alley, filled with pain and close to bleeding out. I'm screaming something…if only I could hear what it was…

Another blue-haired woman…_Asuka…_launches herself into the alley, running off. The next thing I know, she falls to the ground, starting to bleed everywhere, and…I don't think that I've ever felt this terrible before. The anguish is about to tear me in two, and I just want to die. Please, let me stay here and die…

The world flashes quickly, taking me to some sort of laboratory. The same woman, Asuka, is sitting on a table, but there's something off here…she isn't _solid_. A ghost?

The sound of the world suddenly assails my ears, her voice coming out happy and clear.

She tells me…to live on.

Flashing out of focus, I come back to myself crouched among falling debris, a sword in my hand. Sword? I didn't think that I used one of those…

I see Ran and two others standing high above me…Ken and Omi? Yes, that's them…

This time, my heart feels like it's about to be torn in two by…by _love_. This is Ran's sword…he threw it to me. I hear myself speak, certainty strengthening my pained tone.

"I am…a Weiss!"

The last thing I hear as the world fades again is Ran's voice, as loud as if he was standing right next to me.

"Wait for me."

* * *

Looking through the hole in my door, I was truly surprised to see Yohji's eyes looking back at me.

Well…they weren't really Yohji's eyes. The light, the shining brightness that sparkled there even in his lowest moments, was completely gone. He looked…empty. That was why I hesitated to open the door…and it was also why I _did_ open the door.

More than anything, I wanted to bring his light back.

When he began to fall, I only _just_ caught him before he hit the ground. He felt…good in my arms, even though he was lost to the world.

I put him in my bed, deciding it was better for him than the couch, and I've been by his side ever since; the whole two hours.

He's been speaking softly under his breath, but I can't catch most of it. I can only guess at what is happening to him in his dreams, and as to why he fainted in the first place.

Suddenly, his eyes begin to flutter; a sure sign of waking. I take a step back from the bed; it has to be hard for him, being watched so closely by a stranger who _claims_ to be his…former lover.

I see his eyes open fully, but stay a little back from the bed. He rolls his head over, eyes looking directly into mine. A genuine smile, the first I've seen him make since I found him last night, spreads right across his face.

"Thankyou for everything, Aya."

Well, that's rid-…Wait, _Aya_? He's been calling me Ran all day!

He laughs softly, surely at my wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"I remember it all, Aya. I remember the pain…the death…the killing…the grief…Asuka, Neu, Shell, Tsuji…But I remember the love, too. And most of all…I remember how much I miss you."

Falling to my knees by the bed, I'm lost for words. He…he remembers? All of it? And…he's not falling apart in grief?

"Aya, as much as I loved Asuka, the _real_ Asuka, she's part of my past and I wouldn't change that for anything. I didn't want to forget…"

He looks incredibly dejected for a moment, and I find myself reaching for him, wrapping him in my arms. After a few seconds, he awkwardly puts one of his hands across my back, the position he's in making it hard for proper contact.

"Yohji, I knew that…It was in your eyes, and in your voice…I've missed you, too. This past year has been…horrible."

Yohji sits up, still smiling. He puts his hands on my bare forearms, prompting me to crawl up onto the bed and sit facing him. He doesn't take his hands away, fingers beginning to gently stroke my bare biceps. I never got around to putting a shirt on, my worry for Yohji making that seem irrelevant.

A chill runs over me, but whether it's from the cool March air or the long-missed caresses, I don't know.

Looking straight into Yohji's eyes, I see it.

The light. It's back.

Before I know it, I've got him in my arms again, one hand pressing into his back and the other stroking through his hair.

He moves his hands from my arms, crossing them over my bare back. My skin feels like it's burning wherever he touches, the amount of time that's passed since I had physical contact making me harden and shiver.

He speaks directly into my ear, lips brushing the soft skin there.

"You're my future, Aya…please, don't leave me like you were planning…I don't want to go back to not having you with me ever again."

I somehow manage to hold him even tighter, fingers still playing in that soft blonde hair, nowhere near as long as it used to be. It feels amazing having him here, in my arms…I wish that this moment would last forever.

"Yohji, that last morning…I _was_ planning on leaving, but…I wanted to ask you to come with me. I was just too stupid to come out and say it…"

He pulls back from my arms, and for a brief moment I'm terrified that I've said something stupid. When his face breaks into a wider, even more beautiful smile, though, there's nothing but happiness radiating from him.

"Oh, Aya, I would have gone with you; I would have given up _everything_ to go with you!"

If he's going to say something else, it's cut off as my mouth latches onto his. Almost immediately, he opens his lips and welcomes the invasion of my tongue, sliding his own against mine.

This is all…surreal. Losing myself in the kiss, I can almost believe that no time has passed from when we first moved in together…It's so familiar, even though he tastes nothing like he used to. Gone is the ever-present tang of nicotine, instead replaced by mint toothpaste and a faint undertone of alcohol.

Still connected at the lips, I grab hold of his filthy shirt, practically tearing it from his body. A button flies across the room and the material shrieks, not that it matters; he won't be needing that proper business shirt anymore.

I stroke my hands down his side, drawing a breathy moan from him that I swallow. He puts his hands on my hips, surprising strength pulling me forward and directly onto his lap.

From my new position I can feel the rise in his crotch, the same as the one in my own. I grind directly down onto him and our kiss breaks, both of us groaning at the contact. It's been…so long…

"I've missed you so much, Aya…even though I couldn't quite remember, I always felt like there was something important that wasn't in my life…Now, I can tell that it was you…"

He attaches his lips to my neck, sucking at the skin, leaving a mark. For once, I don't care that the bruise is going to be too high for me to cover…it's Yohji's mouth, and as long as it's on me or even goddamned _near_ me, he can do whatever he likes.

The sensation make me harden all the way, and my pants are suddenly extremely uncomfortable. The moans coming from Yohji's throat as we rock together tell me that he's feeling the same, and when he moves his lips from my neck I duck my head away.

Gently pressing him backwards into the pillows at the head of the bed, I place my mouth straight over one of his brown nipples, swiping over it with my tongue and gently nibbling at it until it's raised to a hard point. I switch to the other, taking it between my teeth and lightly tugging at it. His hand twists in my hair, not to the point of pain but still firm enough to make me feel his urgency.

I move downwards, kissing various places across his torso and running my tongue down old scars and firm muscles. His breathing is coming fast now, and when he moans my name in pleasure I can't stall any longer.

Sliding a little away from his body, my out-of-practice fingers fumble at the belt on his work pants, eventually flicking it open and going to work on the button and fly. He stretches out his legs so that I can pull the fabric from his body, savouring every inch of skin that is revealed.

I can't help but snicker slightly when I realise that he didn't lose his habits along with his memory; even as a salaryman, Yohji didn't wear underwear.

Typical…and _erotic._

His cock bounces free, stiff and hard against his stomach. The sight makes me realise that this is truly happening; that Kudoh Yohji is in my bed once again…A smile breaks out over my face, the first since the _last _time Yohji and I shared a bed.

Quickly standing up, I let my own pants fall to the floor and Yohji murmurs in approval. My erection jumps out as I remove my underwear, wanting it out of the way so that I can touch Yohji fully.

Kneeling back on the bed, I swing one leg over Yohji's bronzed body and straddle his waist, letting our cocks brush together as his eyes close in pleasure. Leaning down, I take his bottom lip between my teeth and feel his dick twitch against mine.

I can't hold myself together for much longer.

My voice comes out in gasps, shaking madly as I try to make myself understandable.

"Yohji…take me…"

His eyes light up and his hands grip my waist, leaning up to capture my lips in a quick kiss before pulling back.

"I'd do _anything_ for you, Aya…do you have something we can use?"

I have to take a deep breath before I can answer.

"There's lube in the drawer there, but I don't have any condoms…It doesn't matter, I want to feel you properly…"

He reaches across and digs through the drawer until he brings out a half-empty tube, left there from the nights when I was alone with only memories of him for company…

He doesn't mention the fact that I have it or the used state of the tube, simply gesturing for me to lift up onto my knees so that he can reach me. I comply, which drags my cock alongside his in a burst of pleasure…this isn't going to last very long, for me at least. But I refuse to come until he's inside me, and we're connected…

I hear him squirting the tube, coating his fingers just before I feel a cold touch at my entrance. Breathing hard, I don't have to try very much to relax; I want this, I want _him_, and my body knows it.

The tip of his finger slides into me, and my thoughts become erratic as I start losing myself to the sensations.

There's a slight twinge of pain when he finally slides the third finger in, but a strike to my sweet spot erases that as I almost shriek in pleasure.

"Yohji…no more…I can't hold it…I _need_ you inside me!"

Taking the tube from his clean hand, I slick my own hand and allow the lubricant to warm for a few seconds before I take his erection in my palm, pleasuring him as I make sure that he'll slide inside me relatively easily.

This time, it's him who is asking me to stop; shudders rack his body as he grabs my wrist.

"You're bringing me too close to the edge; come here…"

He regains his hold on my hips, lifting me up until I'm positioned directly over his erection. Holding the base of his dick in my hand, I gently press myself down.

The feel of him slowly sliding inside me is heaven…I don't know how I've gone so long without him.

Finally fully seated again, I open my eyes and look directly into his face. Purple and green lock together, and just before I start to move I run my hand down his cheek, speaking softly in a shaking tone.

"Yohji…I love you."

"I love you too, Aya."

With that, I pick up a slow pace, slowly building momentum as he starts to move and meet me. Our breathing fills the room, and together we make a chorus of moans and curses as we quickly barrel towards orgasm. I don't know who is saying what by the end, our voices mingling.

"Oh, God...alm-almost there…_fuck_…shit, Aya, I'm about to come…Ohhh…"

Despite my best efforts to hold myself back, the sensation of him filling me and sliding against my prostate makes me unintentionally speed up. The added force has him moving faster too, rising off the bed to connect with me.

Just as I lose the last of my control, his fingers tighten on my hips and I feel him pulse inside me. Liquid gushes within my body as I start coming, spilling across Yohji's stomach and streaking the tan with white.

I hear a scream, and I vaguely register that it was me; Yohji groans my name, finally releasing my body as the movement dies down in his softening cock.

I don't want to let him slip out of my body, but I want to hold him properly and I can't do it from my position on his hips. Lifting myself with a slight wince, he slides out of me and I roll across to lie beside him.

Shifting to face me, his hand reaches across the stroke through my hair, and I could swear that I _purr _at the sensation. He smiles, tired eyes relighting with the natural glow that I've been missing for so long.

"Oh, Aya…Actually, do you prefer Aya or Ran? Have you really changed back, now?"

As exhausted as I feel, it seems like an important question. I smile right back at him, stroking his bare torso with my hand.

"I only went back to Ran because the name Aya reminded me of the gorgeous man who first called me that…I'll happily change back now that it will give me good memories."

He leans in to kiss me when I finish, and our tongues connect once again. We're filthy, sweaty and completely worn out…but all I want to do is stay here in his arms.

"In that case, you'll always be Aya to me…_my_ Aya."

His possessive tone fills me with an ecstatic joy that I've rarely felt before, if ever.

"And you're my Yohji…my entire _life_. Never leave me, Yotan…please…"

"Never, Aya."

Tucking my head under his chin, I fall asleep with my arm wrapped around him, vaguely aware of his breathing slowing down at the same time.

He is…my heaven.

* * *

_**EPILOGUE**_

* * *

Picking up my mobile phone, I press the speed dial number that I've only used once before. It rings twice when the surprised voice answers again; I'm beginning to wonder whether he gets this shocked whenever _anyone_ calls.

"Abyssinian?"

"Morning, Persia. I just thought that I'd let you know…I'm leaving Kritiker, for good this time. I'm moving away for a while with Yohji."

At the sound of his name, the relaxed figure in the bed beside me perks up, starting to trace the muscles of my exposed stomach with long fingers. I lightly swat his hand away, glaring at him with no real anger.

"Wh-…But…Has he finally remembered?"

"Yeah, he's back. And he's -_stop that-_ doing better now than he has been in a long time…too long."

I hear Persia try and muffle a laugh in the background, most probably realising who I was telling to 'stop', and why. I can't be angry at him for being an unfeeling Takatori bastard today…unless he tries to stand in my way.

"I was hoping that something like this would come out of your meeting the other night…I'm glad for you, Ran."

"I'm not Ran anymore; once again…I've gone back to Aya."

"Oh, okay, sorry Aya. Listen, I'm not going to try and stop you from leaving, not that it would do any good if I did. I know that you and Yotan will be happy together…Go; find a good life for yourselves. You deserve it."

I smile from his blessing; I would have left without permission, but…there's still some part of me that recognises this man as being Omi, the innocent kid, my _friend_, who somehow managed to keep us all from killing one another. I can forgive his shortcomings, especially when I'm in bed with the man I love more than anything in this world.

"…Thanks, Persia…Mamoru. Maybe we'll meet again, one day."

"I look forward to it. When Ken finally asks to be released, you two should come back for a visit; we'll all get together, with no business involved whatsoever."

"I'd…I'd like that."

Yohji leans up, speaking into the mouthpiece of my phone before darting his tongue out to lick my bottom lip.

"Hey Omi, I've missed ya! We'll _definitely _come visit sometime, once I've decided that I can last five minutes without touching Aya!"

"Tell Yotan that I didn't need that much information. Oh, and because I know that you won't accept it if I actually ask, I'm _telling_ you that I'm going to set up some accounts in your names. You've done so much for me over the years, and my family has done too many horrible things…the least I can do is support you financially. If you don't tell me where you settle, I'll find out anyway; so let me pay for your new life. Please, it's absolutely no problem."

He's right; I would never ask for money. But hey, because he's offering…

"Alright, if that's what you want to do. I'll call you again sometime…but for now, it's goodbye. Contact me when Ken gets out."

Yohji yells out his goodbye, and Persia says his farewell with a slight shake to his voice that makes me believe he might just be crying. I disconnect the line, lying back to stretch out beside Yohji again.

"Leaving, huh? So, where are we going?"

Smiling over at him, still lost in bliss over the fact that all this is _real_, it takes a moment for me to remember to answer.

"Wherever we want, Yohji. It's all expenses paid…We can go anywhere."

He smirks, his entire face brightening. My heart might just explode if I become any happier…

Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against mine. The contact feels amazing.

"Then that's what we'll do. I love you, Aya. More than I've ever loved _anyone_ before."

"I love you just as much, Yohji. Let's make this our new start…our new life together."

"I'd like nothing more, just me and you. Maybe life _does_ smile upon guys like us…and as long as I have you, I'll be happy forever."

Smiling widely, I tilt my head slightly to capture his lips in a deep kiss…I'll never let him go ever again.

And that's a vow I will never break.

_**The End**_

* * *

*******Holy shit, I'm done! I actually made it through every song! Almost gave up a couple of times, mostly when I did five complete rewrites of 'Wicked Game'…but I finished! I really hope you enjoyed this, and that it didn't depress you _too_ much…but the sickeningly sweet ending should fix that right up.

Thanks to everyone who read, and especially to those who reviewed; you're all the reason why I couldn't leave this half-finished! And, if anyone's wondering, my other fics are now officially off hold, because I desperately wanted to finish this one so I kinda ignored them.*******


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